Black Vengeance
by Teufel1987
Summary: AU Third Year: He spent twelve years in hell for a crime he did not commit. Sent there without the courtesy of a trial. Betrayed by his friends and allies. Now he has broken out. He will find and catch that rat and then, they will pay!
1. Act I

**So I was reading this thread on Azkaban!Harry fics and I was struck with a sudden idea. Most of these sort of stories have Harry being chucked in Azkaban without a trial and a few days/months/years later, he is let out after he is found to be innocent.**

**Now Azkaban!Harry does share quite a few things with Sirius Black of canon... Both of them were thrown into Azkaban without a trial, both of them were betrayed/framed by someone they thought was a friend and both of them were innocent while the world thought that both of them were evil and dark and whatnot. Also, Dumbledore and the Ministry are in different ways responsible for their predicament.**

**The difference here is that Sirius isn't unforgiving, hateful, bitter and vengeful like Azkaban!Harry. That is mainly because he wasn't exonerated. But what if he was?**

**This fic explores that. It's a small experiment into a Azkaban!Harry like Sirius. I don't know if I am fully successful here, but hey, it's better to try than not to.**

**And so I give you the first chapter of _Black Vengeance_ ... enjoy.**

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><p><strong><strong>Oh, one other thing ... the disclaimer ... do we really need to do this? I mean, we all know who owns Harry Potter, so why bother pointing out the obvious...<strong>  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Act I Scene I<strong>

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><p><strong>24th July 1993<strong>

Laughter ... that strange yet familiar sound. It was quite some time since he had heard that sound coming out of his own mouth ... it had been eleven years, eight months, nineteen days, one hour and thirty five minutes, if the newspaper sitting there and his still functioning pocket watch could be believed ... eleven years, eight months, nineteen days, one hour and thirty five minutes ... four thousand two hundred and seventy nine days, one hour, thirty five minutes and zero seconds ... not that he was counting of course. After all, who would do that?

Oh wait, he would.

Then again, he didn't have much of a choice. There isn't much one can do when one is trapped in such a drab place. He looked around at his ... room (for the lack of a better word) critiquing its appearance, acting as if it was the first time he had laid eyes on it as opposed to eleven years, eight months, nineteen days, one hour and thirty five minutes ago when he had been chucked in here. Sunken grey eyes surveyed the only two items of furniture in the otherwise bare and dingy room which in reality was a cell; the pallet that served as a bed with a thin threadbare blanket on top and the dingy commode that mercifully stayed clean all day long.

_Mother would not have approved_ was the fleeting thought that first went through his mind. This caused him to snicker (another sound that had not been heard coming out of his mouth!). Of course his mother would not have approved! He remembered that she used to be rather obsessive about cleanliness and how she considered a lack of at least one piece of expensive antique furniture in a room an offence that should be punishable by death. The look on old man Malfoy's face when they had gone to visit dear cousin Narcissa... Then again, the room here was something even _he_ would not approve of!

The thought that he may actually have something to agree with his mother immediately shut him up.

Shaking his head, he cleared his mind. Where was he, oh yes, laughter. It definitely had been quite some time since he had last laughed (and he was not going to think about the exact time again, thank you very much!). But then, he supposed that there wasn't much to laugh about in Azkaban. What with the dementors floating around ... And if that wasn't enough, the Aurors and guards stationed there were of the opinion that their jeering and taunts made up for the few minutes those fiends were absent.

Frankly he did not know which was worse, the guards or the dementors. At least the dementors couldn't speak. The rattling did get old rather fast though as did the tortured screams that assaulted his highly sensitive dog ears. At the same time, it was quite entertaining to hear cousin Bella banter with the guards. How that woman stayed sane without an Animagus form to protect her was beyond his comprehension. Then again, she wasn't exactly sane before she was tossed in here.

He supposed that it was a good thing that they were in the high security wing of the prison. That meant that the guards were too cowardly to open the door and step inside the cell to get physical with the inmates. After all, they had nearly lost one of their own to Bellatrix when the guard had tried to get intimate with her. After all, the guards did not think that it was possible to use your own hair to strangle another person. And they weren't even going to try to get close to him, Sirius Black, "the most notorious Death Eater". A man, so powerful and depraved, that he was capable of killing twelve Muggles and one wizard with a single curse. Voldemort's secret right hand man ... his supposed heir. The fact that he did not seem as affected by the dementors only added to the fear. He heard that there was a rumour going about saying that he was actually part dementor. Come to think of it, his mother was disturbingly like a dementor...

Ever since the hair strangling incident, the guards had elected to stay outside and shout insults from behind the bars. Acting like those yobs he had seen at one of those Muggle zoos when he had gone out with his godson...

Thoughts of his godson got him thinking about the past and more specifically, the events that had led to his incarceration.

2nd November 1981

'PETER!' Sirius Black screamed as he spotted the rat like man among the throng, scurrying around looking for an empty place to Disapparate. It had taken him a day to find the rat-bastard. A full twenty four hours of no sleep and near – constant Apparating and Disapparating. But he finally had the traitorous snivelling twat cornered in a busy part of Manchester. He was going to haul the pudgy tosser to the D.M.L.E. and have the pleasure of sending him to Azkaban for the rest of the fat man's natural life. Who knows, Peter would probably lose some much needed weight there! He might even look handsome enough for somebody to take notice of him.

Sirius did not even think of needing to fight. After all, he was a full – fledged Auror, one of the youngest and best trained by Moody himself who was of the opinion that he would be one of the greatest Aurors ever. Peter Pettigrew on the other hand was nothing but a fat, traitorous, lazy rat – like _thing_ whose only claim to fame was becoming an Animagus at the age of fifteen. He was a mediocre student at best and a failure at worst. Never had Sirius felt so much regret at helping the sod out in school.

So it was a big surprise when instead of snivelling about and asking for clemency, the worm looked around and shouted at the top of his voice while drawing his wand, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' and started heaving out great wracking sobs in that high grating squeaky tone he used to use after a painful session with one of the teachers for being caught breaking a rule. That never failed to annoy James and Sirius. It was quite pathetic really to see a fifteen year old bawling like a five year old after a few swishes.

'If that is the best you got, Peter, then I suggest you give up now,' said Sirius, quickly regaining his wits. _The _nerve_ of him to accuse _Sirius _of being the traitor! _What was almost comical was the fact that in his nervousness Peter was holding his wand in his off hand.

It was when Peter looked up from the ground and into his eyes that Sirius first knew that something was wrong, a feeling that only increased when he noticed that the wand that Peter was pointing at him was somebody else's. His eyes widening, and acting on instinct, he threw up his strongest shield as the wand arm that he noticed just now hidden behind the other man's back let loose a black light from a second wand that it held between its fingers.

As soon as the light hit the ground a loud rumbling sound was heard and the few curious Muggles that were standing there around the wizards in a circle only had time for their eyes to widen before a flash and a large bang vaporised those standing between the Wizards and behind Pettigrew.

Sirius, on the other hand, suffered only a few minor cuts and bruises caused by the flying shrapnel. His shield had taken the brunt of the blast, saving him and a few Muggles fortunate enough to be behind him.

Disoriented, he made to straighten up. The flash of light had blinded him momentarily, and so he did not see the red light of the disarming spell headed his way until it had divested him of his wand and thrown him back.

His vision clearing, he looked at the scene around him. It was a perfect circle of destruction; the concrete was cracked and littered with body parts and pools of blood while water was spewing from the epicentre from a burst pipeline making the area look like a parody of a fountain. Still dazed, Sirius could only watch as Pettigrew approached him, holding his Hawthorn wand and Sirius's own African Blackwood wand in one hand as he pocketed the wand that he had fooled Sirius with.

The Death Eater raised his wand and bound Sirius before he could do anything. He then sent what Sirius recognised as a memory charm to the two Muggles behind him.

His mission accomplished, Peter then turned on Sirius, a sinister grin that the pure-blood scion of the Black family had never seen on the half-blood's face. 'So long ... old friend ...' with that he sent an overpowered cheering charm at Sirius.

Sirius barely registered the bonds tying him down vanishing as he was laughing hysterically. He did notice Peter tossing his wand at his feet before cutting off his finger and then shedding his bloodstained robes. Scattering both the items to the ground, he transformed and disappeared in the sewers.

Things rapidly went downhill from there. The contingent of hit-wizards that arrived on the scene had gazed at the scene for barely a minute before stunning Sirius. When he next woke up, he found himself in a holding cell. A few minutes later, the door opened to allow Barty Crouch and Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold.

'Barty!' said Sirius. 'I have something I need to tell you –'

'Save it Black. We have seen all we need to see. There is nothing more that I want to hear from Death Eater scum like you!' Crouch snapped with hatred in his eyes.

'You truly have outdone yourself here Black,' said the Minister. 'I have to admit that it was quite a stunt you pulled here. To think that you had deceived all of us ...' she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. 'Well, looks like the game, as they say, is up. The evidence has been examined and witnesses questioned. You will spend the rest of your miserable life in Azkaban for what you did!' she said with a vindictive smile.

'I'm not getting a trial?' said Sirius in shock. 'But I am innocent! Surely I have the right for a trial! I demand to speak to Dumbledore!'

'Ah yes, Dumbledore. Well, he was the star witness against you, you know... Gave us the information that you were the one that betrayed the Potters! And your friend the Werewolf told us all about your shenanigans at school ... how you nearly got another student killed. It was decided unanimously that there is no need for a trial. After all, the evidence is rather conclusive ... why should we waste Veritaserum or the time to give you one? Take him away, boys.' With that parting shot, they left Sirius to the Aurors.

And so Sirius was left in the company of the dementors of Azkaban. At first, he held out hope that Dumbledore would see reason, and convince Crouch and Bagnold to hold a trial for him or that the Potters' will would be unsealed and prove that he wasn't the secret keeper as they had mentioned that fact in the will. But that hope soon faded as the days passed by. The feeling of betrayal deepened even more when he found out that Bellatrix, his psychotic cousin and a proven Death Eater got a trial for her part in torturing Frank and Alice into insanity.

Was his service, his dedication to Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix, the light, and the Ministry all for nothing that they did not even give him the courtesy of a trial? How was it that proven Death Eaters got a trial while he got tossed into Azkaban without one? Was his mother right in saying that they could not be trusted? That in the end, the Light was just as bigoted and as blind and narrow minded as the Dark? Was there any point in switching over to the Light?

Sirius had a ready answer to the last question at the least. It was worth switching sides. At least because of that, he had found great friends ... well friend at the very least. Peter was a Death Eater and Remus was just as good as a traitor for testifying against him like that. How could he bring up that incident all those years back when he had sworn that it was in the past? He did not have the luxury of denying knowledge of the switch. Not when Sirius himself had seen the letter detailing the switch included with the package they normally sent him every month which he had delivered personally to Lupin's house.

At first, Sirius was ready to give up and die. Let the dementors work their evil magic on him and release him from the hell he was now in. Then he heard about his godson. His little Harry, who he found out from Fudge (how did that fool become Minister anyway?) had been placed with Lily's sister, Petunia.

Sirius had met the spiteful magic-phobic Muggle and _knew _deep in his bones that she would not treat the boy well. She was basically like Snape, only female and ... well ... a Muggle: Mean, petty, and capable of holding a grudge till the end of time. He knew that Lily would have never wanted her boy to grow up with those animals, and he knew that she had told Dumbledore that. So in his mind, that was another thing the man had done to betray him and his brother in everything but blood and his wife.

This fact gave Sirius new hope. He knew that he should hold onto his sanity and his magic: If not for himself, then for his godson. That rat would slip up one day ... and then Sirius will be free. Free to take Harry in. And free to exact his vengeance.

And so, filled with determination, Sirius started to shift into his Animagus form every time one of those ghouls was around. He knew that they were blind and so would not be able to tell the difference between a man and a dog. His dark pelt also made it easy to blend into the shadows where he could easily shift back should a human come by.

Taking the form of a dog also had the added benefit of dampening the effect the dementors had. The dog did not feel anguish, guilt, sorrow or any of the complex emotions that come from having a larger, more intelligent brain. The only emotion that a dog had in abundance was happiness. The amount of doggy joy he had derived from simply chasing his tail was enough to counteract all the depressing thoughts of the betrayal that he felt on a good day.

Sirius shook his head as he felt the familiar coldness of the dementors approaching. Quickly shifting, he settled down for the night as the beautiful symphony of his cousin's dementor – induced screams of anguish started anew.

_The rat had finally slipped up_ was the gleeful thought that ran through Padfoot's mind as he grinned a feral wolfish grin, his tongue lolling out remembering the elation he felt upon spotting the rat's picture. _He will be at Hogwarts in a few weeks ... Oh Peter, I'm coming for you!_

After he exposed Peter, he was going to take his godson and get the hell away from Britain, perhaps head to France. There he and Harry could start a new life. And Albus Dumbledore won't be able to do a thing. Not after Sirius was through with him.

Thinking sweet thoughts of revenge, the man in dog form closed his eyes.

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><p><strong>Act I Scene II<strong>

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><p><strong>30th July 1993<strong>

Sirius spent the next five days lying in wait. He knew for a fact that by the end of the month, the human guards were scarce as they waited for the next month's shift to come. Officially speaking, they were supposed to patrol the cellblocks regularly till midnight until the next shift came along. However, the reality was that nobody really wanted to be any closer to the dementors than was necessary. And so the time when there was a heavy human presence was at the beginning of the month when the guards weren't altogether too sick of the place. By the end of the month, especially after the Minister of Magic made his annual visits, the guards would normally retire early as soon as the sun set, leaving the dementors to do their work of bringing food to the prisoners as well as patrolling the cellblocks.

As soon as the barred door leading to his cell opened revealing a dementor in all its sinister glory holding a tin plate of food, looking very much like the grim reaper at a party looking for the buffet table, Sirius acted. Coiled muscles released energy as the black dog darted out around the dementor and raced down the corridor, taking advantage of the darkness created by the presence of the dementors.

Still on adrenaline, Sirius bounded up the staircase, recalling with perfect clarity the way out even after so many years.

Suddenly he skidded to a halt a few meters away from the front door as two of the human guards closed it behind them as they headed out to their quarters that was located a mile away from the fortress.

Cursing silently, he nevertheless walked in a circle, searching for the scent of sweet fresh air. Finding a trial, he dashed off in that direction.

Halfway through, he halted as he heard the sound of snoring. Creeping forward quietly, he found the warden sleeping at the desk of his office with the door ajar. Sirius shifted back to his human form and stepped forward to close the door. There was a high probability that a dementor would get in and possibly kiss the man in his sleep. Sirius personally did not have anything against the kindly old man as he was generally a civil fellow unlike most of the guards.

However, that did not stop him from filching the wand sticking out of the old man's pocket nor did it prevent him from snagging the large sandwich at the man's desk.

Stunning the man for good measure, Sirius wolfed down the sandwich and stepping outside, closed the door, locking it with a _Colloportus _for good measure. He was lucky that the wand was responding to him, albeit slightly reluctantly. Pocketing the wand and transforming back, he set off on his original quest.

His nose led him to the far wall where a semicircular opening was built into the area where the wall met the floor. The opening was too low for a human to crawl through and barred. But for a dog as thin as he ... the bars were just wide enough for him to squeeze through.

After a lot of wiggling, Sirius soon found himself outside the fortress on a cliff. There was an empty stretch of land that was barely big enough to fit him. Creeping closer to the edge, he looked down. From what he could see through his limited vision, it was a sheer drop down into the North Sea.

Taking a deep breath, both physically and mentally, the Animagus hurled himself off the cliff down to the black waters below, hoping that this won't kill him.

The cold water was a shock to his system winding him. But he rallied and through sheer determination fought his way to the surface. Once his head broke the surface, he wasted no time and started powering his way through the waves, using his canine instincts to guide him towards the mainland.

Sirius soldiered on with a grim determination, fighting the cold and exhaustion. Just as he felt as he could go no further, his paws hit solid ground. Working on another burst of adrenaline, he surged through the surf and onto the narrow beach, shivering. He only made it a few steps before he collapsed on the sand in exhaustion, as his muscles finally gave up, sleep wasn't far behind as his world turned black.

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><p>He awoke late next morning to completely different surroundings. Confused and startled he let the canine instincts take over as he turned around and growled threateningly at the human he sensed approaching, his hackles raised.<p>

'Easy there, boy, easy,' said the old man as he stayed where he was a good distance away from the dog holding a dish containing chunks of meat. The sight of the food bought Sirius back to his senses as he calmed down.

'There's a good fella,' said the man as he slowly approached the dog in front of him. Sirius wagged his tail a bit and let out a quiet woof before attacking the food in front of him. Chuckling, the old man scratched Sirius's head.

In the two days he spent there, Sirius found out from John, the old man who had found him passed out on the beach that he was now in Whitby, a Muggle town not too far off from the drop off point to Azkaban. He also found out that his disappearance had been almost immediately noticed when he saw his own face staring back at him in that contraption those Muggles loved to watch.

Deciding that it would be best to make himself scarce, he quietly apparated away in the dead of the night to London to his childhood home. As much as he loathed going there, he knew that number 12 Grimmauld Place was perfect because each brick of the old townhouse was saturated with wards.

Not bothering to enter the old house, he quickly shifted forms and silently streaked away into the night.

It took him a few days and a bit of searching, but he finally managed to get to Petunia's house in Surrey. He wanted to check on his godson first before heading back up north towards Hogwarts.

As he was skulking close to the street where Petunia lived, he stopped suddenly when he heard footsteps approaching along with the sounds of something heavy being dragged. Hiding in the bushes, he was surprised to find what only could be his godson angrily dragging his heavy school trunk behind him. Sirius drank in Harry's features as he slunk closer to the boy who was now slumped against a low wall. The dog in him could smell the anger along with a hint of fear that was slowly building. Although he was a bit on the painfully thin side, there was no doubt that the boy was James's son. The resemblance was uncanny. It was almost as if he were looking back in time. Even the mannerisms displayed by the son, when he was rummaging in his trunk, were similar to the jerky movements that James displayed when he was angry.

Blinded by the sudden light coming out from the boy's wand, Sirius instinctively stepped back at the same time the thirteen year old wizard stepped back in shock a finding a hulking beast of a dog staring back at him. Only the boy tripped over his open trunk accidentally summoning the Knight Bus.

Sirius watched, with his heart in his mouth, as the bus came within inches of running over his godson. Breathing a sigh of relief as the boy managed to scramble away in the nick of time, Sirius immediately slunk back into the shadows quietly padding away from the boy and the bus.

He could not afford to Apparate directly to Hogsmeade right now as he did not know what security measures the Ministry had placed around the village. And so he travelled as Padfoot, sticking as close as possible to the train tracks leading towards Hogsmeade from Kings Cross, his only point of reference as he had no idea what villages or towns came before the magical village. Occasionally, he would sneak into the nearest town for food and some news. Initially he would snoop around in human form at the dead of the night so he could reach places the dog couldn't. However, he soon stopped doing that when he had nearly been caught when a Muggle had spotted him once just outside a town very close to Hogsmeade. Running as quickly as he could, he got out of sight and changed forms just as the first contingent of dementors descended on the village. It was there that he found out Fudge's Kiss-on-sight orders as well as the fact that the dementors were very angry at him having escaped.

Once the dementors had left, along with the wizards and witches, he continued his journey. After nearly a month of travelling, he finally made it to Hogsmeade where he settled down at the Forbidden Forest, observing the goings on at the school.

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><p>His first attempt on capturing Pettigrew was on Halloween. He felt it fitting as it was the same day that his life had gone to hell, courtesy of Peter Pettigrew. Additionally, if things hadn't changed at the school, and he knew they hadn't, then everybody would be down in the Great Hall, stuffing themselves silly. The thought of all that food made his stomach churn and his head swim. The smell that assaulted his nose as he made his way to the Gryffindor Tower did not help matters. Perhaps, he could pretend to be a lovable stray and get some normal food? Anything would be better than the rats and other small mammals he had been hunting down and eating raw. It was a good thing that a dog's taste buds were markedly different than a human's otherwise he'd have died from starvation in Azkaban. The dog had no problems snapping up the odd rat or mouse that invariably found its way into the cell. Nor did it mind the food given to it by the guards.<p>

He smoothly changed to human form, stumbling only slightly as he adjusted to the change in his gait. Rounding the deserted corridor, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. As he remembered it, the Fat Lady's Portrait was hanging at the end of the corridor which was otherwise devoid of any other portraits.

Seeing that the Fat Lady's back was turned as she was occupied with a mirror, he darted forward. Bringing up his wand, he unleashed a cutting curse, slashing the portrait before she had a chance to scream. Unfortunately, he was not quick enough for the Fat Lady had caught a glimpse of the curse headed towards her. Displaying reflexes not expected in a woman of her dimensions, she jumped out of the way at the very last moment, leaving her frame. Sirius could hear her screaming through the walls. Knowing he had little time, he tried to open the ruined portrait. Only to find out that the portrait, which normally swung open easily was practically stuck to the wall. Cursing, Sirius tried a couple of spells on the portrait, none of which worked. Obviously the person who had designed the entrances to the common rooms had foreseen forced entry and had specifically warded against it. Cursing, Sirius ran out of there as fast as he could. The feast would end soon and then getting out would be hard.

His first failed attempt had sapped a lot of energy. He was not used to running fast seeing as he had been spending twelve years in a small cell. His journey from London to Hogwarts really did not count as it had been accomplished when he was Padfoot. The dog had built up stamina and muscles from all that travelling, but that did not carry over into his human body which was still unused to the exertion. What was worse was that now the dog was tired. He now remembered that this was covered in the books they had perused when studying about Animagi. The full grasp of the theory escaped him, but the gist of it was that the state of the human body reflected the state of his animal form. This was one sided, so any injuries he suffered as a dog disappeared when he transformed while any injuries he suffered as a human were seen in the dog. The same held true for any benefits as well.

This was why none of the teachers suspected anything as they never did have any bite or scratch marks after their romps every full moon. This also meant that now, after his first transformation in weeks, since he was last spotted in that village, the dog which used to be thin was now skeletal. And while the stamina and speed of the dog was still greater than that of a human's, it was still pretty low for a dog.

Cursing himself for this oversight, Sirius took to building up his strength using his human body. He would use magic to hunt down live game, recalling his skills from all the hunting trips his Uncle Arcturus and Mr Potter had taken him on when he was younger. Before his first attempt at catching Pettigrew, he was wary of using the wand that he had stolen. After all, its theft was definitely going to be noticed. He had no idea if the Ministry had developed a method to track the wand's usage yet. Now, however, since every wizard and their kneazle knew that Sirius Black was near Hogwarts by now, and not somewhere else, he had no problems using the wand. And even if they could pin his location down, there was no way anybody was going to brave the legendary Forbidden Forest to catch him! Not when he was deep within the forest.

At the same time, he limited the usage of magic to just hunting, going so far as to light fires the Muggle way. There was no reason to tempt fate. As soon as he had some amount of stamina built up, he started hunting as a dog while eating as a human, forgoing the use of his wand altogether.

The only time he had even ventured near civilization was to get updates on the goings on at Hogwarts thanks to his new friend, who he decided to name Ginger. It was pretty sad that the only thing willing to listen to him and help him was a half kneazle-half cat. And that too one that looked like it had tried to bring a wall down with its face. Evidently, Persians and Kneazles were not meant to interbreed. The result wasn't too appealing.

Of course, communicating with his little friend was pretty tedious. Sirius's Animagus abilities did not gift him the ability to communicate with animals. So he was reduced to playing twenty questions with the cat. At least the kneazle genes gave the animal enough intelligence to understand Sirius. After all, no normal moggy would be able to understand the words 'Bring me this rat' properly when shown a newspaper clipping.

Not being able to resist the temptation, he ventured forth into the Quidditch Pitch to watch his godson play. The boy flew as well as his father. In fact, Sirius was sure that Harry would give James a run for his money. James would never be able to fly in such conditions. He would know.

He nearly got another heart attack when the dementors came swarming in and Harry fell off his broom. He heaved another sigh of relief when the teachers managed to slow the fall down. Otherwise, he was halfway towards shifting back.

He ran back into the forest as fast as he could. Idly he wondered if the Dementors had come to the pitch because they could sense him.

Sirius learnt later on that the broom Harry was using had been blown by the heavy winds into the Whomping Willow. Because of this, he thought to get his godson a gift. Initially, he was tempted to write to the boy, but he knew that it would not be a prudent thing to do. Harry had definitely been fed all those lies about Sirius's supposed betrayal, and Sirius would not put it past him to alert the teachers who might spring a trap for him.

So he decided to get his godson a new racing broom. It was the least he could do.

Choosing a broom was easy enough. On the back of the newspaper clipping showing Peter's picture was an article of the latest broom in production, the Firebolt. The broom was as fancy as its name, what with the features described in the article. What was more, its price of nearly five hundred thousand Galleons meant that it would be another five years or so till the broom's price depreciated enough for the average witch or wizard to be able to afford one. That would mean that Harry would be the only individual who wasn't in a professional Quidditch team to own one. It was definitely the perfect gift to get his godson.

After some thinking, Sirius wrote out a letter on some stationary he had Ginger steal from the school.

_Dear Quality Quidditch Supplies,_

_Recently I was involved in a Quidditch accident, because of which, my broom was destroyed. And so I write this letter to you with the intent of purchasing a new broom for myself._

_Initially, I wanted to buy another broom of the same make as I dearly liked the quality of the broom. Then I remembered that the Firebolt has come out. After some additional research, I feel that this broom would be the best for me._

_And so, I would like to purchase a Firebolt from your fine store. That is, if you have it in stock. Money, obviously, is no object. Would you be kind enough to charge the cost of the broom to vault 711?_

_Yours faithfully,_

_Harry Potter._

Folding the note, Sirius gave the letter to Ginger and told him to send it off to the Owl Office. He figured that nobody would really know, or care, that Harry Potter did not own vault 711, nor would they care that the letter was rather verbose for a thirteen year old. The fact that the teenage celebrity had ordered the most expensive item in Quality Quidditch Supplies would be enough to give the owner an orgasm and make him see Galleon figures dancing in front of him all the way till Christmas.

The price wasn't much of a problem for Sirius as his Uncle Alphard had left quite a decent sum of money for him to use.

The next morning, he got quite a shock when he found an owl in front of him. Opening the letter, a momentary chill went up his spine when he saw who it was from.

_Dear Mr Black,_

_This letter is to confirm your approval of a bank transfer of 484,962__Γ__, 10__Σ__ and 5__Κ to the vault owned by the establishment "Quality Quidditch Supplies". Please sign on the dotted line to approve this transfer. A notification shall be sent immediately to Mr Oldham, the proprietor, upon doing so._

Sirius gulped and read the second sheet of parchment included in the envelope.

_Your attempt at using a different name, while brilliant _(Sirius could almost feel the sarcasm coming out from that word) _was ultimately foiled as I recognise your ... distinctive handwriting when the letter was forwarded to my desk, seeing as I am the manager of your accounts. You should be thankful that the Ministry does not deem it necessary to watch your vaults (as if they could ever come close to the bank to do so) and that the Goblins do not view you as a convict as you haven't got a warrant against your name._

_Also please do inform me when you plan on coming over and claiming the headship of the Black Family._

_Yours,_

_Grimjaw._

_Well there was a bit of good news_ Sirius thought, laughing in relief. He nearly thought his location had been discovered when he first saw the letter.

Just to be sure, Sirius Apparated himself and the owl to a secluded spot he remembered in Edinburgh. After signing the letter, he attached it to the now disgruntled owl that flew off after cuffing him on the head with its wings as it left. Not wasting time, Sirius quickly apparated back to his spot in the Forest before shifting forms and loping away.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene III<strong>

* * *

><p>In the next few days leading up to January, Sirius managed to find out why he was still the head of the Black Family. Though there was nothing he could do with the money or the information he knew was there in the Family Vaults. Not until he got Pettigrew.<p>

Near the end of January, he had a breakthrough in the Pettigrew front. As he was skulking around in his Animagus form just at the border near Hogwarts's grounds, he overheard a conversation between two boys.

'That portrait of Cadogan is a menace I tell you!' the first boy said to his friend, as he kicked a rock aimlessly. Sirius could detect a hint of an Irish accent in his voice.

The other boy, a dark skinned lad, snorted, 'Yeah, he keeps changing the bloody password _twice_ every day! I'm having a hard enough time remembering what the password is half the bloody time. At least Black won't be getting in now!'

'Screw Black, _we'll_ be lucky to be able to get in.' the first boy said humourlessly. Suddenly he spoke up, 'Did you hear that Neville managed to get all the passwords of the week from Cadogan?'

'Really?' his friend asked. 'Wow ... that is pretty smart of him.' He sounded surprised. 'Though, I doubt he'd remember them! It's a miracle he can remember where his clothes are to begin with!'

'Well, apparently he wrote them down to ensure that he didn't forget them. At least that's what I heard.'

Any further conversation was lost to the wind as the boys meandered back to the castle. But Sirius had all the information he needed. It seemed that Frank and Alice's boy was in Gryffindor with his godson. He wondered if the two were friends. It also seemed that Neville had inherited his mother's absentmindedness. Sirius could recount quite a few stories off the top of his head about Alice's memory problems. She had outgrown that by fifth year though.

Later that day, he sat against a tree in his human body with Ginger curled up on his lap. As he fed some scraps of his meal to the feline (who knew that kneazle-Persian hybrids liked deer?) he asked him some questions.

'Do you know who Neville Longbottom is?'

The moggy purred at the question. From his previous conversations with the cat, Sirius knew that the answer was a 'yes'.

'He's got all the passwords for the week written down in a scrap of parchment. Do you think you can get that?'

Ginger seemed to consider the question before purring again.

'Great, will you be able to get it by tomorrow?'

A sniff

'No? Okay then, how about the day after?'

Sirius smiled as Ginger purred. 'Now that's a good boy,' he said as he stroked the spot behind Ginger's ear. 'Here, have some more deer.'

The first few hours of the first Sunday of February saw the hump of a statue of a humpbacked witch slide open as the black form of a dog silently jumped out. Sirius Black silently stalked through the darkened corridors of Hogwarts approaching Gryffindor Tower. He estimated that the party that the Gryffindors had to celebrate their victory against Ravenclaw would have wound up by now. Old McGonagall at least would have ensured that if the students didn't.

Stopping outside the portrait he observed the portrait of a short squat knight dozing against the belly of a snoring fat pony as his ears pricked forward, hoping to discern any noise from the common room within.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted back and, hoping for the best, extricated the scrap of parchment with the written passwords.

The portrait's eyes opened as Sirius cleared his throat. Clanking loudly, the knight got up and declared, 'I say, who goes there?' Suddenly drawing a sword that was longer than he was tall, the man continued in a voice that Sirius felt was unnecessarily loud, 'Declare yourself or face my wrath!'

Sirius was amused. He vaguely remembered this portrait. If he wasn't mistaken, it was hung at the North Tower. They never did have the time to examine it though. A pity, really ... James would have found him amusing.

'Sir Knight, I request entrance to yon chambers that you have been charged with guarding.' Sirius said. The prospect of catching Pettigrew was so exhilarating that he found himself in good spirits.

'Indeed, sir? Well, I only let those with the proper password enter the hallowed chambers within. Unless you have the password, I suggest you move along. Or you shall meet the end of my blade!' at this the knight swung his sword violently, causing him to overbalance and fall over.

Sirius watched as the knight reached for his sword, no doubt to use it to stand up. Suddenly with his hand near the scabbard, the knight stopped and muttering, 'Oh no, not this time,' pushed himself from the ground.

Shaking his head, Sirius started from the top, 'Right, _Scurvy cur_.' He looked at the portrait enquiringly.

'No that is not the password, though that is what you are.' The portrait replied.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius read the next one, 'Oddsbodikins.'

'Tuesday morning's password.'

Grumbling, Sirius went down a few more words. 'Seriously, you actually used these for passwords?' he said incredulously as he looked at the list. 'How has McGonagall _not_ noticed?' some of the words there were rather rude. If McGonagall had caught him saying any of the words in school, he was sure he would have had his mouth washed out. He doubted that the students were complaining though. The little buggers probably thought it was brilliant as they broke into fits of giggling when saying the passwords.

Grumbling indistinctly to himself, he came upon what he thought would be the password, 'Piss-artist' he said, giving the portrait a disgusted look. As the portrait swung open, he shook his head and entered.

The common room was empty and clean. Sirius heaved a sigh of relief at that. He did not want to be seen by the house-elves.

Sneaking up, he went up the staircase to the boys' dormitory. Opening the door marked _third years_ he drew his wand and started peeking through the curtains. The first one had a sandy haired boy. His godson was in the second one, sprawled out and looking a lot like James did. Shaking himself out of the onslaught of memories, he moved onto the third bed. There, snoring loudly through an open mouth was Pettigrew's "owner"

Grinning, Sirius ripped open the curtains, looking at the bedside table and searching intently for the rat. Not seeing it there, he looked at the bedclothes... Still no rat. Cursing he looked again, using the moonlight to see properly. His eyes slowly travelled up the bed, taking in every detail and hoping to spot the rat.

_Here peteypeteypeteypetey_ he thought to himself a hungry look on his face. Looking at the pillow intently, he suddenly saw a pair of blue eyes sleepily staring back at him...

_Mother fu-_

Sirius was halfway to the door by the time he heard the first high pitched warbling screams coming from a voice that had not fully cracked. By the time the others had woken up, he was running full pelt down the corridor and to the statue, transforming midway.

Another failed attempt.

* * *

><p>If security wasn't bad before, it was definitely worse now. Sirius heard that the teachers had now doubled the patrol shifts, involving prefects and ghosts as well.<p>

He also hadn't found the rat. But he wasn't disheartened. Peter was too cowardly to run off somewhere else. There were quite a few predators out there that would happily snack on a rat. Hogwarts and the boy were his best hopes of staying alive and hidden as a rat. It would only be a matter of time...

He decided to wait till the end of the school year at the school. If that failed, he could follow the boy to the Weasley homestead and then try his luck. Perhaps Pettigrew will have become complacent enough by then.

He didn't have to wait that long. Fate finally seemed to favour him when he saw the same lanky boy struggling with something small. As the thing escaped and started running away followed by the owner, Sirius knew that it was Pettigrew. Ginger seemed to agree as he too started chasing Pettigrew. He didn't even think. Transforming, he rushed at the boy just as he caught hold of the rat.

* * *

><p>A few moments later, after months of planning, and two failed attempts, he was now staring down at the man who had betrayed his friends and framed him clutched in the hands of one of Arthur Weasley's many children as Lupin (he refused to think of him as Remus anymore) told the kids the whole story.<p>

When the door had opened of its own accord, Sirius knew that somebody invisible had entered the room. He had seen James do it often enough. The fresh set of footprints on the otherwise dusty floor was further proof. Whoever it was, was an adult, judging by the size of the feet, and a complete novice in using Invisibility Cloaks. After all, standing on the dusty section of the floor like that was a very amateurish mistake.

Making sure to keep his hand on the wand he had pilfered from the warden, he shifted his gaze to the rat as he kept a watch on the floor using his peripheral vision. He wanted to be able to see the person hiding under the cloak before cursing him. He had a hunch as to who it was. Years of being in that twit's company had sensitised him to the git's presence. He wanted the pleasure of seeing the other man's face before his hex hit him.

'Snape?' he said harshly, taking his eyes off the rat and looking up at Lupin while still keeping an eye on the spot where the invisible man was. 'What's Snape got to do with it?' he asked derisively.

'He's here, Sirius,' said Lupin heavily. 'He's teaching here as well.'

Sirius seethed silently at this bit of news as Lupin explained their history with Snape to the kids. So the slimy git not only got out from being chucked into Azkaban, but also got a nice comfy job offered by the old man himself no doubt. This was another strike against Dumbledore as far as he was concerned. The fact that Lupin here was also teaching wasn't lost on Sirius. His mind started conjuring up images of the two of them being all palsy with each other. From watching the inhabitants of the castle for the past few months, and looking at the way his godson interacted with Lupin, he gathered that Harry did not know Lupin at all. So he wondered what the werewolf had been doing all this time instead of looking out for the son of his best friend like he should have. He had noted the hungry look in his godson's green eyes (looking just like Lily's) upon being told something about his father he should have been told a long time back.

'It served him right,' he sneered after Lupin bought up the events of their sixth year at Hogwarts. 'Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to … hoping he could get us ex pelled. …' Initially Sirius had been horrified at what he had done. But now ... his only regret was that James had bothered saving Snape.

When Snivellus finally revealed himself, Sirius inwardly rolled his eyes. The git was as greasy as ever. And he was just as childish and melodramatic as before too. Some things never change.

When the "good professor" (Sirius still could not believe that this idiot was _teaching children_) was distracted with shouting at Harry, predictably turning his back to Sirius and forgetting his immediate surroundings, the prison escapee made to remove his wand and curse the git in the back but was cut to the quick when his godson showed a surprising quickness and agility and cursed the git _in his face_! Sirius was never more proud of his godson than at that moment ... why the last time he felt this was when his godson had looked at him with those big green eyes and said "daddy" ... much to James's shocked disbelief (of course, he never knew that Sirius had been spending two whole weeks teaching the sprog to say that the next time the kid saw him). Now he got to see the lad cast his first spell at Snivellus! It was a moment that needed to be cherished. The look on Snivellus' face before the disarming charm hit him only served to double the sweetness of the moment. And the fact that the git got cursed not only by one, but three thirteen year olds when he himself was a professor made this moment so sweet that Sirius was sure that he would end up with that Muggle disease Lily said her parents had. Dia-something ... it was related to sweets.

Shaking out of his revere, he let go of the wand hidden in a sheath in his sleeve as he bent down to untie Remus. He had a feeling that he being seemingly disarmed was an edge that was going to be crucial here.

'You should have let me handle him,' he protested weakly to Harry, trying to keep the pride from showing in his voice.

Letting Lupin stand up, he hid the anger and bitterness he was feeling at his former friend when the other man had the gall to act as if nothing had happened. As if he had never sent that hate-filled letter to Sirius condemning him and breaking off their friendship. Lupin, like everybody else, would get what was coming to him. For now, he had to prove his innocence.

'You know, Sirius, that's a fair question,' said Lupin, turning to him and frowning slightly. 'How _did_ you find out where he was?'

Hearing that, Sirius nearly lost his patience. _For fuck's sake, get on with it already!_ He screamed in his mind. Reining his emotions in with a supreme effort, he extricated the newspaper Fudge had given him so long back and told them the story of his discovery. This soon led to a discussion of the intelligent and helpful half kneazle Sirius had met and befriended in the forest and that again led to rehashing the events of the past year which finally culminated in reliving the events of that tragic night that had led to this entire mess. If Sirius wasn't so wracked with the sorrow for what he had inadvertently caused and the results of his decisions, he would be pulling his hair out in frustration. While he did not hold himself directly responsible, he still felt guilty for failing his best friend and his family. What was more, he also held himself responsible for running off half-cocked to hunt Peter down instead of staying and caring for Harry like he should have done instead of sending him to that manipulative old man.

'Enough of this,' he heard Lupin say with a steely note in his voice 'There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, _give me that rat._'

'What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?' The Weasley boy, Ron, asked Lupin tensely.

'Force him to show himself,' said Lupin. 'If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him.'

Ron hesitated. Then at last ... at long last, he finally held out the rat to Lupin who took him. Sirius watched hungrily as Peter began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

'Ready, Sirius?' said Lupin.

'Sure' Sirius replied through gritted teeth. He had decided to take Snape's wand for this operation. That way, if he were to, hypothetically, say, send an Avada Kedavra at the rat, the whole thing would be pinned on Snivellus. Also if the wand were to hypothetically snap into two, he would have a backup.

Everything was hypothetical at this moment.

Finally, seeing Peter being forced into his human form after all these years had Sirius feeling a sense of immense jubilation. The end of his N.E.W.T.s did not even begin to compare to this feeling.

'Well, hello, Peter,' said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats fre quently erupted into old school friends around him. 'Long time, no see.'

'S — Sirius … R — Remus …' said Pettigrew in that squeaky voice of his that so annoyed Sirius as his eyes darted toward the door. 'My friends … my old friends …'

At this Sirius saw red. The _nerve_ of that man! He raised his wand arm intending to teach the bastard some manners when he was halted by Lupin who gave him a warning look.

Seething, Sirius lowered the wand while sending the werewolf a filthy look that the other man did not notice. _Sure, stick up for him. You were_ _his friend _first_ after all, _he thought resentfully_._ He recalled that he and James weren't too keen on befriending the pudgy boy in school. It was only due to Remus' insistence that they had done so.

It took a bit of time, but eventually despite Peter's vehement protests and efforts to keep the frame up, the truth finally came out, and Harry finally believed Sirius's version of events. This caused a smile to break out on his face as the one person who he had done this for, the one person who he had hung onto his sanity for finally believed him and not the lies everybody else was feeding him.

Sirius watched dispassionately as Pettigrew started grovelling and begging for his life. He wasn't about to kill the rat. After all, he wanted to be cleared first. But it was pretty funny watching the man beg for his life.

He kicked out as Pettigrew made to touch his robes.

'There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them,' he sneered. His right hand curled into a fist as the rat then tried one last time to convince Lupin that Sirius was the spy.

'Shall we kill him, Sirius?' said Lupin nonchalantly as he rolled up his sleeves.

'No,' said Sirius coldly. Hearing that word, Lupin looked at him in surprise while Peter who was in the middle of grovelling for his life stopped mid-crawl halfway towards Ron, a surprised look on his face.

'Th-thank you, Sirius,' Pettigrew blubbered. Before he could say more, however, Sirius flicked his wand, lifting the rat up and flinging him against the far wall with a pained squeal. Sirius ignored the scream Harry's female friend (Herwhiny, or something) let out at the sudden violence as he stepped up to the blubbering man.

'I did not do this for you,' he snarled as he sent a stinging hex at the pathetic man in front of him. 'I did it because I do not wish to lower myself to your level, _Death Eater_!' he spat the last two words out making Pettigrew cringe.

Breathing hard, he looked at the man in front of him for a moment; the urge to kill the traitor was still there regardless of what he had said. 'You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,' Sirius finally said, his voice soft but deadly. 'Do you deny it?'

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an over sized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

'Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord … you have no idea … he has weapons you can't imagine. … I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen. … He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —'

'DON'T LIE!' Sirius bellowed, his temper finally getting the best of him. 'YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!'

'He — he was taking over everywhere!' gasped Pettigrew. 'Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?'

'What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?' Sirius replied, with a terrible fury in his face. 'Only innocent lives, Peter!'

'You don't understand!' whined Pettigrew. 'He would have killed me, Sirius!'

'THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!' Sirius bellowed in response as he let a cutting curse loose on the coward in front of him. 'DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!'

Pettigrew cried out in pain, clutching his leg as the curse opened up a gash from his shin to his knee.

Breathing deeply, Sirius continued in a calmer tone. 'I would love to end your pathetic, miserable life right here on the spot, _Peter._' He spat his former friend's name out in malice. 'But frankly, you are currently more useful to me alive than dead.' Saying this, he bound Peter's hands together.

Reaching down, he frisked the rat, not bothering to hide the disgust he felt as he went through Pettigrew's pockets. The shirt and trousers he was wearing were the same the rat had worn when he had framed Sirius. They hadn't been washed since then and were _filthy_!

Finally, Sirius found two wands and what definitely was a Portkey. 'Harry, come here, please,' he said over his shoulder.

Wrapping the Portkey in a piece of cloth taken from Pettigrew's trousers (Sirius may or may not have cut Pettigrew's leg in the process of cutting the cloth out) he turned to his godson who approached him, Sirius noted with approval how he kept one eye trained on the snivelling coward behind him.

'Um, Sirius,' Harry said hesitatingly. 'Why are you wrapping up a rubber ducky?'

'Because I have good reason to believe that this is a Portkey, I don't know if it is reusable or active, so I'm wrapping it up to be safe.' Sirius replied evenly. Seeing Harry's confused look, he said hastily, 'I'll explain later, for now, just hold these for me will you?' saying that, he handed the two wands along with the Portkey.

When Harry took the wands, an odd look came on his face as he held the longer wand.

'What is it?' Sirius said noticing the look.

'It's nothing,' Harry said as he looked at the longer wand. 'It's just that the wand feels ... familiar ... as if it is a friend that I have never met, yet not ... you know what I mean?' Sirius looked at the wand in question. It was the strange wand he remembered Peter had with him. Now that he had the time to look at it, Sirius wondered how Peter managed to get his hands on such a fine specimen. The owner had covered the wand in intricate pictures made of gold leaf and had covered the hilt in leather made from the hide of a Welsh Green. Sirius had seen something similar on his parents' wands, so had a feeling that Peter had probably stolen this from some wealthy pureblood. For all he knew, the rat had killed the wizard before taking the wand.

For a moment, Sirius thought that this was James's wand. Then reason took over. He knew his friend well; firstly, James would not have done this to his wand as he wouldn't have had the time and traditionally wizards added such decorations on their sixty-first birthday as it meant that the wand had been in their possession for half a century. Secondly, the colouring and length of the wood was all wrong. Sirius knew that James had a wand made of Mahogany. This wand was lighter in colour and was nearly two inches longer than the length of his friend's wand.

Shrugging, Sirius said, 'If the wand works, then I suggest that you keep it with you as a backup, just in case.' Noticing the peculiar look Pettigrew was giving the wand in question, Sirius added, 'And keep its existence a secret. Nobody is to know that you have two wands. And I mean _nobody_, am I clear?' A quick glance told him that the other conscious occupants in the room were busy with the ginger's leg.

Harry looked into Sirius's eyes for a long moment before agreeing.

'Good boy,' Sirius whispered before standing up.

'Right,' Lupin said standing up. 'We should probably start moving to Hogwarts.' He helped Ron up who now had his leg bandaged. Sirius felt a slight pang of guilt at the part he had played in breaking the leg in the first place, but that feeling was dismissed. The situation called for it, and it was only a broken leg. It could easily be fixed with a bit of magic.

'What about Professor Snape?' said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure. Sirius snorted at this, he never thought he would see the day that the words "Severus Snape" and "professor" would be used together.

'There's nothing seriously wrong with him,' said Lupin, bend ing over Snape and checking his pulse. 'You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this. …'

He muttered, '_Mobilicorpus._' As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a stand ing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque pup pet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and made to put it in his pocket when Sirius interrupted. 'I think Harry should have that, it is his after all.'

'Erm, alright,' said Lupin slightly startled as he handed the cloak to the boy who took it with a muttered 'thanks.'

'I think two of us should be chained to this ... thing,' Sirius said, kicking his prisoner as he said the last word. 'Just in case,' he looked down at Pettigrew with contempt.

'I'll do it,' said Lupin. Ron immediately echoed Lupin.

'Yeah ... no,' said Black, drawing the first word out. 'No offence kid,' he said to Ron who bristled at that. 'But you can barely walk on your own. You are not in any condition to escort a fully grown and able Death Eater.'

'I guess you're right,' Ron said sulkily.

'And do you really think that I can be trusted with floating the unconscious body of Severus Snape?' he said to Lupin after a moment of thinking. For some reason he did not want Lupin to be shackled to the traitor. Not only did he no longer trust the werewolf, but his gut told him that it would be a terribly bad idea.

'That's a good point,' said Lupin.

So in the end, Sirius and Harry ended up chained to Pettigrew while Hermione decided to help Ron who, miraculously, seemed to have suddenly lost his sulky expression.

Harry had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; he, Pettigrew, and Sirius went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Ron, who was supported by Hermione followed them, both of them had their wands pointed to Pettigrew's back. Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, brought up the rear along with Professor Lupin who was guiding him along.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. He, Pettigrew and Sirius had to turn sideways to manage it. Sirius manhandled Pettigrew through the tunnel with quite an amount of violence that Harry suspected was rather deliberate. They finally managed to get through in an awkward single file, followed shortly by the rest of their party.

'You know what this means?' Sirius said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. 'Turning Pettigrew in?'

'You're free,' said Harry.

'Yes …' said Sirius. 'But I'm also — I don't know if anyone ever told you — I'm your godfather.' His mouth was suddenly dry.

'Yeah, I knew that,' said Harry in a tone that was unreadable to his godfather. Sirius, who was looking forwards, stopped and turned around to look at his godson.

'Well … your parents appointed me your guardian,' said Sirius stiffly. 'If anything happened to them …' _Goddamit_ he thought, _why was this so hard?_

He looked at Harry. The boy seemed cautiously expectant. Well, in for a Knut...

'I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,' he continued. 'But … well … think about it. Once my name's cleared … if you wanted a … a different home …'

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

'What — live with you?' he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. 'Leave the Dursleys?'

'Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to,' Sirius said quickly. It was possible that Petunia had changed her ways. 'I understand, I just thought I'd —'

'Are you insane?' said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Sirius's. 'Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?'

Sirius stopped again as he turned right around to look at his godson.

'You want to?' he said in slight incredulity. 'You mean it?'

'Yeah, I mean it!' said Harry.

Sirius's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.

Sirius on the other hand was disturbed at this. It was obvious that Petunia had not changed and had in fact carried her hatred and jealousy she harboured towards her sister onto her nephew. How else could it explain the fact that Harry was so ready to go live with Sirius, a relative stranger without asking any questions?

They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Harry did not hear the sound of savaging branches as Sirius poked his head up.

Sirius roughly dragged his half of Pettigrew up through the hole, and then helped Harry up. The three of them made their way outside the Whomping Willow as fast as they could, they waited outside the reach of the tree for the rest of their party.

As Ron and Hermione joined them, Sirius looked around him. This was the night that he would be officially free. He breathed in the cool Scottish summer wind, bringing with it all the smells that he associated with summer. The Castle stood in the distance, lit up, shining like a beacon in the darkness. The moon's borrowed sunlight would soon light up the grounds...

Sirius's thoughts abruptly ground to a halt as a chill went down his spine. His eyes widening frantically, he looked up. He suddenly remembered how and why Snape had come down here. Tonight was a full moon night ... and a werewolf was going to be joining them...

Snapping his head to the base of the tree, he spied the greasy head of Severus Snape floating up. At first he thought to summon Snape towards him. His body, following the commands given by his brain, bought up his wand arm. Then he had another thought. Leaving Snape there would kill two birds with one stone so to speak. He would have his vengeance on both Lupin and Snape at the same time. Also the rampaging beast that Lupin would become would be distracted by a warm human body in front of him long enough for the five of them to make it to the castle in safety.

And so thinking this, Sirius sent off three spells in quick succession. The first spell, an _enervate,_ hit Snape, waking the Potions master up long enough to see the second spell,a banisher, hit him square in the chest, sending him rocketing back into the passageway and right into Lupin. The third spell, a light stinging hex, hit the knot on the base of the Whomping Willow with precision, un-freezing the tree and making it impossible for the werewolf to escape.

Harry was puzzled when Sirius suddenly looked up and paled. 'What was that about?' he asked in confusion and a hint of awe. The way Sirius had sent off two spells in one sweeping motion of his hand was pretty cool.

'_Enervate _and banisher,' said Sirius succinctly with relief plain on his features. 'The first one woke Snape up and the second one sent him crashing into Lupin.' He did not mention the stinging hex he sent to the tree. He knew that it would not have been noticed as it was very faint and had been easily swallowed up by the night.

'But why would you...' Ron began in confusion. He was cut off by a gasp from Hermione as the grounds were bathed in moonlight as the cloud passed the full moon, revealing it in all its glory.

'Ron, the moon! But that means ... You put Professor Snape in danger!' she rounded on Sirius, an indignant and accusing look on her face.

'It had to be done,' Sirius said harshly. 'I don't like it either, but I had a choice; do I endanger all of us or just one person? If they had managed to make it out, all six of us would be in danger! Would you rather face a full grown rampaging werewolf, girl?'

The girl paled at the implication of having to face a full-grown werewolf. 'But there must be something we can do?' she said slightly desperately.

'Unfortunately, no,' Sirius rebuffed her curtly. 'If we had, then your professor Lupin would have followed us out where he would have transformed. Werewolves are extremely agile. And when they see and smell human flesh, they become determined. He would have been on us in a trice. Trust me, I know.'

All three of the teenagers gulped at this bit of information. Sirius sighed as he saw the six pairs of glistening eyes and three trembling lower lips. They were just kids, and they weren't exposed to the harshness that was reality. But they would eventually understand that sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils. 'Look, I made sure to wake Snape up before I sent him inside. So he isn't unconscious. As much as I loathe saying this, he is a capable wizard. He will be able to handle himself. Also, don't forget, the moonlight is what causes the transformation. I reckon that if Lupin stays out of the moon, he won't transform. After all, he hadn't changed despite the moon being up for all this time.'

He knew that he had offered them false hope, but it was the best he could do for the moment. Fortunately the three of them, even the smart whiny one, seemed to accept the explanation.

'Really, I cannot believe that he would be so irresponsible,' Sirius added suddenly as they started walking as fast as possible towards the castle. 'He has known for all his life how dangerous it is on full moon nights ... yet he came here anyway! Not to mention that he actually wanted to be with you, Pettigrew.' He yanked the manacle binding him to the rat's hand. 'It's almost as if he did the whole thing on purpose!'

'He isn't that bad,' Harry said defensively. Professor Lupin was the best teacher they had so far in Defence. He had also taught Harry how to defend himself against dementors.

'Maybe,' said Sirius noncommittally. 'I'll just say that he always has been conscientious about when it is going to be a full moon night. I remember once he actually told me that the wolf in him could sense the full moon. You have to admit, it is kind of suspicious, isn't it?' he trialled off.

'Merlin's ... Peter, stop dragging your feet! Alright that's it, we're stopping here.' Sirius said in frustration, bringing the party to a halt near the lake. 'I know you are stalling on purpose. Why, hoping that the werewolf will come and save you? Well, I have a remedy for that!' saying that, he swiftly waved his wand, causing the chains to vanish. Peter had only a scant second to register the disappearance of the manacles securing him to Sirius and Harry before he fell to the floor screaming in agony through his gag as Sirius broke both his legs.

'There,' Sirius grinned malevolently. 'Now you won't be able to run if you transform! I should have done this earlier, you know. It would have made things simpler!' Turning to the shocked teens, he said, 'What? It is the only way to ensure he doesn't transform and scurry away. It was standard Auror tactics in dealing with dangerous wizards: incapacitate them to prevent them from escaping or trying to kill you. Besides, bones can be mended easily. Now,' he rubbed his hands together, 'I'm going to teach you a fun new spell, you wave your wand like this, and say _Levicorpus_!' he demonstrated on the crippled man at his feet. Pettigrew immediately was yanked up by his mangled legs causing him to fairly howl with agony through his gag as he was hung upside – down.

Harry knew he should be feeling shocked, but he couldn't help but feel impressed by the spell Sirius showed him. It really would be useful when certain annoying blonde gits got in the way...

'Right, now that I have a handle on this one, we'll be able to make it to the castle quicker.'

No sooner had Sirius said this that Harry noticed a black mass moving from the far side of the lake. _Dementors! _And they were halfway here! Harry did not think twice. He immediately pointed his wand at Ron and repeated the incantation he heard Remus using on Snape. His desperation caused the magic to work properly, yanking Ron up into the air. Not bothering to appreciate his handiwork, Harry started running for the safety of the castle, his ginger friend trailing behind him, screaming at the top of his lungs in one long note. Hermione and Sirius followed with Pettigrew trailing upside-down behind Sirius.

It was a mad rush toward the castle. The dementors were gaining on them, swarming along the edges of the lake. Harry knew that they wouldn't be able to make it in time. He could already feel the cold creeping on him. It would only be a matter of time before the screaming would start. Making a split decision, he shouted over his shoulder, 'Hermione, take over!' Without giving the girl to reply, he skidded to a stop. Ron who had been floating behind him flew by, his movement not stopping in the slightest. Harry jerked his wand, stopping Ron's forward momentum and bringing him back with a snap right into Hermione.

Not bothering to see if she had caught him on time, Harry concentrated with all his might. He knew he should make this work. Failure here wasn't an option. Thinking this, he summoned up a happy thought. _Sirius is going to be free, and I'll finally be free of the Dursleys._ Thinking of the things he would be able to do away from those odious Muggles and the happiness he would be feeling, he brandished his wand and bellowed, '_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!'

Instead of a shapeless mist, a blinding, dazzling, silver animal the size of a horse shot out of his wand. Harry tried to make out what it was as the creature galloped soundlessly towards the dementors. Lowering its head, the Patronus charged, dispersing the swarming dementors. It then started galloping back and forth, forming a barrier. The dementors eventually gave up and retreated, finally disappearing into the night.

The Patronus turned around and cantered back soundlessly towards him. Seeing the antlers on its head, Harry realised that it was a giant stag, as bright as the moonlight. Its hooves made no mark on the ground. As it neared Harry it looked at him with large eyes as it bowed its head.

'Prongs?' said Sirius in a trembling voice as Harry reached out a hand. The stag, however, disappeared before his hand came in contact with it.

'Blimey,' said Ron as Hermione said, 'That was really advanced magic, Harry!'

Suddenly, they realised that they were on top of each other. With a yelp, Ron hurriedly rolled off Hermione, grunting as he jarred his leg. Hermione got to her feet quickly and helped Ron up.

The trip to the castle was tame after that. The first person they encountered was Professor McGonagall who was rushing towards the entrance. She had spotted the dementors approaching and after sending the Headmaster, and Professors Flitwick, Sprout and Snape a messenger Patronus, had readied her wand to meet the creatures.

'Professor,' said Sirius casually. 'Let me reintroduce you to somebody. This here is Peter Pettigrew! Do you remember him? Short, pudgy, a bit of a baby ... dead? Yeah, as you can see, he is very much alive. Could you please call the current head of the De Em El Ee for me? I believe that the current head happens to be Amelia Bones, if I am not mistaken. We do have some issues to resolve. Perhaps it would be prudent to call the head of Aurors too along with one of his men and a phial of Veritaserum.'

Harry nearly burst out laughing at the look on McGonagall's face. She certainly wasn't expecting the most wanted man in all of wizarding Britain to calmly walk up into the castle with the boy he was suspected of targeting and a dead man he was supposed to have killed.

Just then Professors Sprout and Flitwick arrived. 'Black!' Sprout hissed while Flitwick gave a squeak and before anybody could even blink, the Charms Professor had his wand trained on Sirius, the tip glowing red.

'Wait!' said Harry as he stepped between his Professors and his godfather. 'Professor, Sirius is innocent. He was framed by Pettigrew who faked his death.'

'What?' said Flitwick in confusion as he tried to piece together what the excited boy in front of him was babbling as Sprout said, 'Pettigrew is _alive_?'

'Yes,' croaked Sirius as he indicated to his captive with his wand. With a jerk of his wand, the wizard in question fell down in a heap.

'Sweet Merlin, it _is _Pettigrew!' said Flitwick, nearly dropping his wand.

'Minerva, what is the matter?' said Dumbledore as he appeared in the Entrance Hall. He stopped when he spotted Sirius. His eyes narrowing slightly, he took in all the occupants in the room, shortly spotting Pettigrew.

'I think we should continue this discussion in Minerva's office. Minerva, please alert Cornelius. You will find him in-'

'No,' Sirius's hoarse voice cut Dumbledore off before he could complete his sentence.

'I'm sorry?' Dumbledore said politely.

'The Minister of Magic has no reason to be in this situation. I believe that matters such as this are to be covered by the De Em El Ee and since there is a dangerous dark wizard involved, the Auror office. Ergo, I believe that the heads of both these departments are to be alerted first.' Sirius said, looking coldly at Dumbledore.

If Dumbledore was taken aback at the tone Sirius used with him, he did not show it. Instead he just inclined his head and said, 'Very well, Minerva, please alert Amelia and Rufus while I show Mr Black and his hostage to your office. Filius, could you please get Madame Pomfrey? Tell her she has a few broken legs to mend. Pomona, could you call Severus? Have him bring the strongest batch of Truth Serum with him.'

'There is no need for that, Dumbledore,' said Sirius harshly. 'I am sure Amelia or this Rufus would be willing to get a Ministry trained Potions Master with them with a phial of Veritaserum. Why use a school teacher when the Ministry has specifically trained people for the job? No offence,' he added to the teachers standing there with their eyebrows raised. 'I know how brilliant some of you are, but it would not be fair on the school to use its resources on a non-school related issue.'

Mollified, the teachers agreed with Sirius's statement, prompting Dumbledore to ask Minerva to ask Amelia to bring in their resident Potions expert.

Dumbledore then asked Professor Flitwick to call Madame Pomfrey and directed Professor Sprout to look for Professor Snape. He then led the group up to Professor McGonagall's office where he conjured additional chairs for all the occupants. Sirius took one of the two wooden seats in front of the desk, unceremoniously dropping Peter on the other one and tying him up with enough manacles and ropes to risk redundancy. Harry took one of the conjured armchairs next to Sirius while Ron and Hermione sat on the other two armchairs next to him. Ron stretched his broken leg out on the ottoman that Dumbledore conjured for him. Sirius then placed Snape's wand on the table. He then, under Dumbledore's watchful eyes, slowly reached into his left sleeve and placed another wand that Harry did not know he had on the table. Turning to Harry, Sirius said with a neutral face and voice, 'Harry could you please put Pettigrew's wand and the suspected Portkey on the table?'

Harry caught the meaning of his words, and extricated Pettigrew's wand and the wrapped up ducky from his pockets, leaving the other wand in his pocket. He had no idea why Sirius insisted he keep it, but wasn't about to complain. He did like the wand well enough. It did not feel as good as the wand that he owned, though.

No sooner had they settled down did Madame Pomfrey enter. 'Albus,' she said, 'Filius told me that some people needed tending to...' catching sight of Sirius, she fairly shrieked, 'Sirius Black!'

'In the flesh ... what little of it remains,' Sirius said waving a thin arm.

'Calm down Poppy, there is no need to panic,' said Dumbledore. 'Messrs Pettigrew and Weasley do require your services, however.'

'Pettigrew, as in _Peter Pettigrew_?' the matron said in disbelief. Looking at the bound man, she gasped as she recognised him. It had been years later since she last saw a picture of him in the newspaper, but there was no mistaking the snivelling balding man trussed up in a bevy of chains and ropes in front of her.

Quickly slipping on her professional face, she bent down over Ron's leg. 'A clean break,' she muttered to herself. 'It can be easily fixed.' With that she waved her wand and muttered an incantation as she tapped her wand directly on the break. Ron winced in momentary pain as the bones rearranged and repaired themselves.

As Pomfrey was turning towards Pettigrew, Sirius stopped her saying, 'No, not yet. I want an anti-transforming spell placed on him. He is an Animagus and can turn into a rat. I will not have him escaping now.'

'And why would he want to do that, Black?' asked McGonagall as she entered, a severe expression on her face. Just behind her was another woman with short grey hair, a monocle and an expression mirroring McGonagall's, a tall man who looked like an old lion, a dark skinned bald man and finally, most intimidating of all, an old grizzled man who had more spare parts and scars than what was normal.

'Black!' grunted the grizzled old man, looking at Sirius with a dangerous glint in his original beady black eye. The electric blue eye which had Harry transfixed swivelled around the office before it came to rest on Pettigrew. 'Pettigrew?' the man said in shock, after looking at the man closer. Both his eyes widened in shock at this.

'Alastor,' Sirius said neutrally. 'I see you have ... changed. Frankly I am surprised that you are still working as an Auror. Isn't it past your retirement, old man?'

Alastor grunted humourlessly, 'I retired a year back. The only reason I'm here is because I was with Rufus here asking to be let in on the hunt for you when Minerva here came calling with quite a wild story. Naturally I elected to come along. And I'm not so old that I cannot wipe the floor with you yet, Black, so watch that gob of yours!' he speared Sirius with a menacing glare with his normal eye while the fake one glared at Pettigrew. Just then Harry noticed the wand the grizzled old man had trained on Sirius the whole time.

'Gentlemen, how about we get down to business?' said the monocle wearing witch in a booming voice, effectively cutting off any further conversation. 'You said that this is Pettigrew, Minerva?' getting a nod from Professor McGonagall, she continued, 'What about you, Professors Dumbledore, Sprout and Flitwick?' getting an affirmative nod from the people in question she said dryly 'Obviously Alastor concurs,' she ignored the snort coming from Alastor as she spoke to the room at large. 'Well, I have to wonder then what a dead man is doing very much alive.'

'That is the same thing we were wondering too, Amelia,' said Dumbledore. 'And for that, I think we would need to get some Veritaserum to get to the whole truth. If my suspicions are correct, then we may have committed a serious error.' The twinkle in his eye died at that point. Harry had never seen the headmaster look so old and careworn before.

The witch, Amelia, then seemed to notice Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting there. 'And what are these children doing here?' she asked Dumbledore.

'We saw the whole thing,' Ron piped up immediately. Amelia then gave him a piercing look, shutting him up, as his ears turned red.

'Indeed,' boomed Amelia. 'So we have totally eight witnesses; five adults and three minors, all identifying this man as Pettigrew. I think it would be prudent to listen to the full story first before taking any further action, wouldn't you agree, Rufus?'

The leonine man nodded. Looking at the bald man he said, 'Auror Shacklebolt, if you please.'

In response, the tall black man brought out an electric blue quill and some parchment. Setting the parchment down, he placed the quill, tip down, on it and let go. The quill stood on its own, quivering in anticipation.

'Testing... this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror, present for the interrogation of Sirius Black.' The man said in a deep and calm voice. Harry noticed that the quill started skating across the parchment, writing the same words spoken. Satisfied, Shacklebolt ripped the page out before stepping back standing guard with Alastor at the entrance.

The severe woman with the monocle then waved her wand, expanding Professor McGonagall's desk. She then sat down on the chair behind it with Dumbledore and the tawny haired man sitting on either side of her in conjured chairs.

Taking this as her cue, Madame Pomfrey left the office along with Professor Flitwick. Professor McGonagall then stood behind her students as Amelia started speaking.

'Preliminary interrogation on the sixth of June Nineteen Ninety – Four into offences committed by escaped convict-'

'-Actually, that isn't right. I was never given a trial, thus I have never been convicted to be called a convict, let alone an escaped one.' Sirius interrupted, his voice taking a bitter tone to it.

Amelia raised an eyebrow at this. Turning towards her right, she silently asked Dumbledore if this was correct. When the mage did not endeavour to correct Black, she snapped 'Pause!' at the quill which stopped moving.

Looking at Dumbledore, she said incredulously, 'Are you telling me that this man,' she pointed at Sirius. 'Did not get a trial?' Dumbledore took a moment before nodding slowly, looking grave. This caused a collective intake of breath from the other occupants in the room.

Amelia looked fit to be tied, the expression on her face matching McGonagall in severity. Harry privately thought that the monocle the witch was wearing greatly enhanced the glare had on her face. With a supreme effort the witch got her emotions in control. After spending a moment looking at the desk in contemplation she took a deep breath and then, seeming to come to a decision, looked up.

'This is highly irregular,' she boomed, 'A person, that too the head of an ancient and noble house, being denied a trial.' Taking a deep breath, she continued. 'Due to the amount of time you, Sirius Black, have spent in Azkaban without a formal sentence, I do believe that the government has no choice but to drop the charges initially placed against you and set you free. That is if an arrest warrant was issued in the first place. However, this situation does require resolving. Therefore an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot shall take place where the truth of the matter shall be determined. In the mean time, Black, I would advise you to stay in the country until notification of the trial date is given. I further recommend that you stay with Alastor Moody until you are tried. The kiss – on – sight orders against you shall be rescinded effective immediately. Finally,' she turned to Peter Pettigrew. 'You, and for the moment we shall call you Peter Pettigrew, are hereby under arrest for impersonating a dead man or misleading the Ministry into declaring you deceased. Furthermore, you are also under suspicion of conspiring with a Dark Lord and treason. Auror Shacklebolt, please do the honours.'

Shacklebolt flicked his wand at Pettigrew causing the many chains and ropes to disappear, leaving the still snivelling man in a set of heavy manacles.

'You might want to ensure that he does not transform,' Sirius said helpfully. 'The tricky blighter is a rat Animagus, and has been hiding as this boy's pet,' he nodded to Ron. 'For the past twelve years. Here's his wand, along with what I think may be an escape Portkey.' He indicated to the items on the desk. 'Oh, and I think Warden Lightfoot would like his wand back,' he tapped the wand in question.

A blue light shot off Dumbledore's wand at that, hitting Peter, making him glow for a moment before receding as Shacklebolt retrieved the items in question.

Sirius nodded to the three kids, saying, 'I'll see you lot later,' and looking at Harry specifically, he said 'Especially you.' Then, without so much of a glance at the rest of the room, he exited the room, followed by Moody.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene IV<strong>

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><p>Moody took Sirius to his house by side – along apparation. 'Stay right here,' Moody grunted as he stepped forward and waved his wand in complex patterns. Sirius watched as Moody took down a multitude of defensive wards placed around his modest one storey house.<p>

'Seems you have become a bit paranoid over the years, Alastor,' Sirius said dryly. 'Or at least, more paranoid than before,' he amended as he walked up to the grizzled ex-Auror.

'It isn't paranoia if you know they are about to get you,' Moody said in response.

'True,' replied Sirius. When they stepped over the threshold, he smartly commented, 'What no booby traps placed on and around your door? I'm surprised.'

Halfway to the drawing room, Moody paused. Slowly turning around, he grinned at Sirius. 'Now, there's a good idea, laddie! It never did cross my mind ... I will look in on that right away! I knew there was a reason why I considered you to be my protégé!' he sobered suddenly. 'I would like to hear what happened with Pettigrew, if you don't mind.'

Sirius stiffly recounted the whole story right from the decision to change Secret Keepers up to the time Pettigrew had blown up half the street.

Moody sighed as the story ended. 'I had no idea that a trial was never granted to you, Sirius. I was led to believe that you had been formally charged. Had I known, believe me, I would have petitioned for one ... and I would have spoken on your behalf. I knew you Sirius; you never would have betrayed James.'

Seeing the remorse and sincerity, on the other man's eye, Sirius gruffly accepted the apology. At least his mentor, unlike his traitorous friend hadn't known.

The moment having passed, Moody sat up suddenly and leant forward, an intent look in his eyes, 'So what do you plan to do now?'

Taking a deep breath, Sirius said, 'It depends. Can we get a good lawyer? I would prefer Cousin Andromeda.'

'Ah, young Nymphadora's mother,' Moody said contemplatively. 'She is on the way to becoming a good Auror, that Nymphadora. A bit clumsy, but she is good at disguising herself.'

'Little 'Dora?' said Sirius incredulously. 'She's becoming an Auror? Well, isn't that something ...'

'Yes, anyway, I think we can get Andromeda onboard here,' Moody said. 'She never did believe that you were capable of what you were thrown in jail for.'

The very next day, Moody, with Sirius in his Animagus form ('Interesting talent you have there, Black.') paid a visit to Andromeda Tonks at her house.

It took a bit of convincing, but Andromeda was finally convinced of Sirius's innocence.

'Well, this is quite a shock,' said Andromeda. 'I cannot believe that Sirius spent twelve years there without a trial! And it's quite unbelievable that Pettigrew managed to fake his own death.' She sat in quiet contemplation for a moment.

'Yes, I saw him with my own eyes,' said Moody. 'Amelia was pretty unhappy on finding out that Sirius never was given a trial. She decided on the spot to hold another trial. Dumbledore had no choice but to agree, I expect Fudge will be browbeaten into agreeing soon enough.'

'So he will need representation, I gather,' Andromeda mused. 'When can he meet me then?'

'How about now?' asked Moody.

At those words, the dog in front of Andromeda changed into Sirius Black.

Andromeda looked at Sirius for a few moments before shaking her head and saying, 'I should've known ... hello again, Sirius. It's nice to know that I was right in not believing you capable of betraying James and Lily ... though the whole killing the Muggles along with Pettigrew business was a different matter. You always did have a penchant for exploding things.'

Moody snorted at her last statement. 'I agree. No offence, Sirius, But you weren't the most level headed Aurors back then. You always were a bit hot-headed, brash and impulsive.'

Sirius winced at this statement, 'You're right,' he said soberly. 'I will admit that I did not think with my head and acted on instinct. What I should have done is informed you at the least and confronted Pettigrew with backup. But times were tough then. And I trusted the wrong people. Both Pettigrew and Lupin betrayed us, betrayed _me_!'

'What do you mean, Sirius,' Andromeda asked.

'James and Lily were quite adamant in letting Remus know who the real Secret Keeper was. So on Lily's insistence, I had included a letter with the normal monthly package of food and some of the Wolfsbane Potion James had procured. Remus used to go out on Order business quite often, so I had placed that parcel in the living room of his house when he was away. I had even warded the bloody thing myself so only Remus could read it!' Sirius replied.

'So he knew, and yet he testified against me and with Dumbledore Crouch and Bagnold pushed to send me to Azkaban without a trial.' Sirius finished bitterly.

After a few moments Andromeda said slowly, 'So ... what do you want to do now?'

Sirius smiled coldly at this. 'First I am going to get my name cleared. Once that is done, we go after Bagnold, Crouch and Dumbledore. At the same time I want undisputed custody of my godson. After that ... we'll see...'

'Dumbledore is going to be tough to take down,' Moody said. Andromeda agreed saying, 'He has a tonne of political capital which has been gained from a near century of politicking. And a lot of goodwill to boot, people still look up to him even though it has been nearly fifty years since.'

'We shall see,' Sirius mused. 'I will have to check the family vaults for any information my dear old father had dug up on the old man. A man as old and prolific as Dumbledore would have some skeletons in his closet. And if he had even the sliver of a bone, Orion Black would have found it.'

'The family vaults? But, Sirius weren't you disowned?' Andromeda asked in confusion.

'Not really,' said Sirius. 'Apparently, when my dear old mum had tried to do that when I ran away, Orion Black decided not to go through with it. I guess he wanted to see which Black ended up in the winning side. He, unlike Abraxas Malfoy, took care to stay the hell away from committing to either side. I only found this out last winter actually, when I had gone to Gringotts. Turns out that the goblins really did not care whether or not I was innocent. As far as they knew, the Ministry had no documentation that I was a convict, so they happily kept my accounts active! Thanks to that and the fact that no withdrawals had been made, the family fortune has gone up ever since.'

'So that would make you the-'

'- Head of the family? Yeah. Once my name is cleared, I'll see to reinstating you and recognising Nymphadora. Then I'll have dear Bella disowned. I might do the same to Narcissa ... then again it would be a useful bargaining chip if we needed to get Lucius' support in bringing Dumbledore down.'

Andromeda's face lit up at being reinstated back into the family. While she loved her husband and would have married him again in a heartbeat given a choice, she still did feel a slight amount of loss at being disowned.

'Let's get cracking then, shall we?' she said, rubbing her hands together. 'Start at the beginning, I want all the pertinent facts.'

* * *

><p><strong>Some minor edits done on the thirtieth of January 2013 ...<strong>


	2. Act II

**I realised something: I suck at one-shots. I start off with plans of finishing it all in one chapter, but somehow, I lose my nerve after the 75th page or so. Anyway, here's the next chapter of the (no longer a one shot nor a two shot) **_**Black Vengeance**_**. It's 25K words long, so now you know what I have been doing ever since I put up chapter 30 of **_**Rise of the Wizards.**_

**Question concerning what Sirius looks like: you know that former child actor Macaulay Culkin? Know what he looks like now? If you don't do an image search. Then, turn the blond hair into black, and you have what Sirius really should look like when out of Azkaban. Not like Gary Oldman (who still looks good cause he hasn't freaking starved himself!)  
><strong>

**Warning: Slash! Male Pregnancy! FemSlash! Necrophilia! Paedophilia! Incest! Rape!**

**All of the above will **_**not **_**be found in this fic. Repeat, Will NOT be found. If you like any of the above, well, this fic is not for you (although I really wish I had put in some **_**femslash**_**)**

**However, there will be a scene involving corporal punishment, and Sirius will be strict. Don't really see the point of putting this warning up, but there you have it.**

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><p><strong>Act II Scene I<strong>

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><p>Gringotts, Sirius decided, was an odd name to give a bank. He tried the name out in his head one more time. He sampled it, lingered over it, and let it permeate through his mind. Yes, it was a rather odd name, it did sound quite funny. He remembered quite well how he and James used to wonder who "Grin" was and what he had "got". They had even made a knock-knock joke based on the name. It wasn't brilliant, but what do you expect from a pair of eleven year olds?<p>

As Sirius passed through the silver doors (as always, he rolled his eyes at the inscription – these goblins had a penchant for being over-the-top). He reflected that Gringotts wasn't as bad a name as say, Coutts. Then again, the Goblins did own that bank too. Sirius wondered if the reason why they bought it from the Muggles quite a while back was because of the unusual name.

'I would like to speak to Grimjaw, please.' Sirius told the teller politely.

The goblin gave him a surly look and fiddled behind his desk, out of Sirius' view.

Soon enough, the Black family account manager came in. 'Mr Black,' he said with a nod. 'Please follow me.'

'First off,' said the goblin as he took his seat behind his desk. 'Congratulations on being exonerated.'

'Thank you,' Sirius said thinking of the trial that had just concluded a few scant minutes back.

It had been quite straightforward. Thanks to Amelia Bones, and the presence of a very much alive Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black was declared innocent of all charges placed against him before. All of this was done under the heavy and impotent glares being sent Sirius' way from Bagnold, Barty Crouch and Lucius Malfoy.

According to Andromeda Tonks, there really was no doubt about the outcome of the trial. After all, the former minister of magic and the former head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had imprisoned Sirius without a trial. The Ministry of Magic could only hold a suspect for up to a month. After which, they were compelled to either give him a trial, or set him free. Since there was no proof of any such thing as a trial (made up or real) and Sirius had been held for twelve years, the Ministry had no choice but to let him go even if they found him guilty.

Still, it was much better this way. The whole world now knew that Sirius Black was an innocent man, and that he had been unjustly thrown in prison.

Peter was charged with fraud (for faking his death), being a known Death Eater and spy for "the Dark Lord" and finally for the murder of twelve Muggles. Additionally, he was charged for having caused the deaths of no more than twenty Muggleborn, having admitted as such when questioned under Veritaserum.

Sirius never felt so happy in his life when he watched the crying and begging form of Peter Pettigrew being dragged off by the dementors to serve the remainder of his life in Azkaban. He had also been stripped of his Order of Merlin. Regina Pettigrew, Peter's mother, could also be seen sobbing as she was made to return the medal.

That happiness was dampened when it came down to reparations. The Chief Warlock had stood up and announced that Sirius had "graciously" decided to donate the one point two million Galleons, which was supposed to go to him as compensation, to charity.

Sirius smiled at the twinkling eyes of the old codger when he really was fuming inside. He knew that the old bastard was getting him back for what he had done to Snape.

From letters written by Harry, Sirius knew that Snape had survived the encounter with a fully transformed werewolf. However, the Potions Professor was nowhere to be seen as Potions classes were cancelled. Dumbledore had not mentioned anything about that incident, and Sirius now knew why.

Sirius wouldn't be surprised if the money had been used to fatten the old man's bank account. Not only was he unhappy about the money lost (even to a rich man, a million Galleons is a significant amount), but he was unhappy about the injustice here. He had lost twelve years of his life thanks to that old man and Dumbledore still had the guts to try and discipline him?

But he would bide his time. Dumbledore wouldn't know what hit him after Sirius was done. Besides, two could play at this game. For one, it was quite hard for werewolves to get a job.

This was why he was now in Gringotts. Having claimed the headship of the Black family, Sirius directed Gornuk to take him to the Black family vault.

After one hair raising cart ride (Sirius was sure that the goblins had increased the top speed of those things). Sirius stood in front of the vault, watching Gornuk shoo the dragon guarding the entrance away using the Clankers.

Stepping inside the vault, Sirius went towards the far end, not giving the various priceless artefacts and treasures a second glance.

He pressed his ring into the indentation in the far wall. At once, nine numbers faded into view in a perfect square over the indent.

Touching the right numbers in the correct combination, Sirius stepped back as the wall slid to the side, revealing the true treasure of the vault.

* * *

><p>'Good evening, cousin.'<p>

Lucius Malfoy observed the man sitting in front of him. While Sirius Black no longer looked as handsome as he did in his youth, he looked more respectable now that he had cleaned up a bit. The long scraggly hair and beard he had seen in the pictures was no longer there. Instead the hair was cut stylishly short (Lucius suspected that it had also been washed many times over) and the man was clean shaven. However, the gaunt face looked even thinner under the shock of longish jet black hair.

'Black,' he finally said to his cousin by marriage. 'How may I help you?'

Thin lips stretched into a smirk as the grey eyes flashed in amusement. 'Straight to business, Malfoy? You seem to have lost your penchant for small talk.' He took on a reflective mood. 'Not that I blame you, I find my capacity for small talk also diminished.'

'What can I say,' Lucius said with a nasty smirk of his own. 'I find life too short to be worrying on petty things like beating around the bush. Besides, you certainly do work fast, seeing as you did not waste much time in requesting a meeting. It has been what, eight hours since your exoneration?'

Sirius nodded as he took a sip from his glass of single malt. He was not too worried about there being any foreign substances. Despite their union in marriage, neither family trusted the other. So it was with this understanding of mutual distrust that Lucius barely batted an eye when Sirius cast a few revealing charms the drink was poured into the glass. As the host, he also had to take a sip of the liquid first. It was a centuries old tradition after all.

'Very well, then.' The gaunt man lounged back on the wingback chair he was sitting on. 'I was wondering,' he said slowly, looking at the contents of his glass as he lazily swirled the glass around. 'If House Black and House Malfoy could possibly make an alliance for the future,'

Lucius sneered. 'And why would I want to make an alliance with the disinherited blood traitor son of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?'

'Disinherited?' Sirius looked up at Lucius with a look of shock so deep, that it was overdramatized. 'Why would you say such a thing?' He theatrically brought his left hand to his chest, splaying the fingers.

Sirius smirked as he saw Lucius' eyes do a double take as he saw the band on his ring-finger. More specifically, the ornate family crest done up in small expensive clear coloured diamonds. 'Y – You're wearing the Black Family ring, I see.' Lucius finally stammered. His face paled. He was sure that Sirius had been disinherited. Before she died, Walburga had assured him and Narcissa of that! Lucius was looking forward to the power, prestige and money that Draco would be able to access at the age of seventeen.

'Why yes I am!' Sirius said in mock surprise. 'From your look of astonishment I can see that you did not expect that. Well, you see, my dear old mother thought that I was disowned. My father, on the other hand, hadn't taken steps to ensure that. Orion likes to hedge his bets, you see. And with one son on either side of the war ... well, you get the point.'

It took all of Lucius' experience and patience, along with his average skills at Occlumency to keep from attacking the insolently smirking man in front of him. He had to aid the new Lord Black. Refusing would be ... quite difficult.

'Anyway, I went to Gringotts, got my ring, made a visit to the family vault...' Sirius trailed off suggestively.

Lucius took a bracing swallow of the whiskey and poured another finger. He definitely had no choice now. The Blacks were notorious for their information gathering skills. It was one of the many reasons that The Dark Lord wanted the head of the Black family to commit to his cause. Not for the first time, Lucius, like many other Purebloods, wondered how they did it.

Seeing Lucius get the point now, Sirius smirked. He had the arse over a barrel now. While he hated his parents, he had to admire his family. His ancestors were so devious that they made Walsingham look like that character from those Muggle spy books that Lily used to love.

Nobody had given one thought to the full potential of the house-elves, except for Pisces Black over five hundred years ago. He had quietly started a business of breeding and selling house-elves to the gentry of the time. Those house-elves, unlike the normal elves that you could get in the market, were bred to be intelligent and were given a good education. This made the pricey elves indispensable and worth every Knut as the head elves of a family. Of course, there was the small disadvantage that these elves were sterile (according to research, the magic involved in making them intelligent was responsible for this). But this meant more business for the Blacks. Nobody really knew of the name of the author of the paper since Sagittarius Black (the first) had made the rather unusual decision of keeping his name out of it.

But what nobody knew was that through a clever manipulation of magic and conditioning, Pisces had ensured that the elves had first loyalty to the Blacks. Oh, they would bond with the other families and their houses, but they would always report secrets to the head of the Black family.

And if that wasn't enough, Scorpius Black, an avid painter and artist, had done the paintings of many a lady of many a house in his day. Unknown to the lady (and her family) there would be a miniature copy of the same portrait in Lord Black's study.

Between the portraits and the house-elves, the Blacks knew the dirty secrets of many affluent or powerful families, no matter their allegiance. Secrets like the true origins of the famous Malfoy-Weasley feud, or why the Weasleys were known as the Weasleys and how they had fallen from power, or (and this was the most delicious piece of information within Pureblood circles that people would die of shock knowing) the secret of the origins of the Flints.

Sagittarius Black the third made sure that nobody knew of the Black ownership of the house-elf farm, burying it under enough paperwork that people just assumed that the goblins owned that business.

The family had used that information to their benefit over the centuries. It was because of this spy network that Phineas Nigellus Black, for example, held on to his position as headmaster of Hogwarts till he voluntarily retired, despite the opposition he received from many fronts (a majority of which had been from the Governors).

The family jealously guarded the secret of their success, only the next head got to know of this when he put on the ring.

Till Sirius' incarceration, the Black family was the power behind the throne. They owned the Ministry, they owned the Wizengamot and they owned Hogwarts. It was a travesty that the power had gone to Dumbledore and the Malfoys.

Well, no longer. Sirius smiled predatorily, sending a shiver down Lucius Malfoy's spine.

'Now that we have an understanding ... this is what I want you to do for me.'

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene II<strong>

* * *

><p>Harry was woken up rather rudely and suddenly by a loud noise that shook his bed and sent him toppling to the ground.<p>

Harry groaned softly. Dudley was at it again.

It had been two weeks since Harry had returned to Privet Drive, and thirteen days since Dudley's new diet plan had been implemented.

Vernon and Petunia Dursley may have been able to explain away the fat lump of lard's abysmal marks in school or the bullying he was reported for, but they could not deny the fact that their precious son was not "big boned" or had "puppy fat" but in fact, had roughly the same weight and dimensions of a baby killer whale.

Personally Harry thought that Dudley was heavier than a blue whale, but who was he to argue with a medical professional?

Despite the Vernon and Petunia's protestations, there was one undeniable, hard fact. Dudley's waistline exceeded, by a significant amount, the largest size of those hideous orange knickerbockers made by the school.

Along with that were the health concerns the nurse had expressed, saying that the boy was just a few steps away from having heart disease or diabetes.

Harry was personally rooting for the second option. The irony of Dudley being unable to have sweets for the rest of his life would be sweet indeed (pun intended).

Thanks to that, a diet plan had been set up. The plan banned all types of unhealthy foods, from crisps to cakes, and included only vegetables and fruits. Things that Vernon, a diehard meat eater, derisively called "rabbit food"

Needless to say, Dudley was decidedly not happy with it.

Slowly getting up from the floor, Harry had to admire his cousin's persistence, as he listened to the deep rumbling voice of his Uncle and the pleas of his Aunt's mixed in with the shouting and banging of his fat cousin. Looking at the time, he groaned again. Dudley was right on schedule too.

Getting up, Harry stretched and then went to his wardrobe to throw on some clothes.

Time for some rabbit food, thought Harry in resignation. He hated to admit it, but his uncle did have a point. Leaves and such were meant for deer and rabbits. Things that were later turned into venison and ... well, rabbit.

Harry grumbled under his breath. His horsey aunt just had to make the rest of the household follow Dudley's diet as a show of solidarity. Idly he guessed that she really was a horse to be able to stomach such vile types of food.

Harry was really tempted to write to his friends asking for food as he really did not have any desire of surviving on wilted leaves or grapefruit (he shuddered at the reminder of the bitter taste). But he desisted. Sirius would be coming soon to pick him up, and then he would be rid of the Dursleys for good.

But as the days went by, he felt his resolve weakening. It had been ten days since Sirius had been exonerated. Just two days back, Harry had seen a news report stating that a grave mistake had been made and Sirius Black, who was once thought to be a traitor and a mass murderer, was actually a national hero who had been framed by enemy powers. The lady in the telly never did mention who those enemy powers were; stating national security and making oblique references to the SAS. But it was more than obvious to even the moronic Muggles who owned the electric equipment, that Sirius was a national hero who had even been given a VC for his gallantry.

Yet Sirius had not come. His last letter had been sent to Harry the night he had returned to Number Four, and he had yet to reply to Harry's last letter asking him when he was going to come and rescue Harry. Additionally, Uncle Vernon had a rather nasty expression on his face ever since he had seen that news report. It was enough to make Harry very nervous.

'Now boy,' Vernon said as they finished the rather meagre breakfast that still had Harry feeling hungry. 'You've been lazing around enough. I think it is time to start earning your keep. I want you to start helping your aunt around the house.'

Harry turned a cool face to his uncle. 'Sure thing, Uncle Vernon, Just let me go upstairs to finish my latest letter to my godfather.'

The small grin that had broken out of Harry's face died when his uncle scoffed. 'Oh please, enough of that nonsense! You obviously are lying! As if a hero like that would be seen with the likes of you! I bet you didn't think that he would be exonerated, did you?

Harry tried to remain calm, but something in his face gave him away. 'Oho!' Uncle Vernon said with a victorious smile on his face. 'Well, well, well. Lying now, are we? That is quite a nasty habit. Those layabout wizards might not put much stock in that, but in this house, it will not be tolerated. When I come home from work, I'm going to have to make sure to correct such behaviour. You are going to wish you never lied to me boy! After I am done with you –'

But Uncle Vernon never got to finish his statement as he was interrupted by a loud shriek.

The source of the noise turned out to be an exceptionally large snowy owl. It was only his experience with the species that Harry knew that it was male.

The bird gracefully made its way to Harry, dropped a letter in front of him, wheeled around and flew back outside.

'OWLS!' yelled Uncle Vernon suddenly, the well-worn vein in his temple pulsing angrily as he slammed the kitchen window shut causing the other occupants in the room to jump. 'OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE! AND THAT FLEABITTEN ONE OF YOURS WILL BE THE FIRST TO GO, BOY!'

Ignoring his uncle, Harry had opened his letter eagerly.

'What are you smiling about, boy?'

'Oh nothing!' Harry said in a very upbeat voice as the huge grin that was threatening to break out on his face on reading the letter became visible. 'It's a letter from my godfather!'

'What?' Before Uncle Vernon could complete his question, the letter was thrust into his hand.

Harry watched with an expression of glee as the man's ruddy face paled on reading this.

'So your godfather is coming here in a few hours, is he?' Uncle Vernon said in a would-be casual voice, turning white.

'Yes,' Harry said, enjoying the look of panic on the man's face. 'And his name is Sirius Black. The very same Sirius Black who was on the telly.'

* * *

><p>After getting Lucius on board, it was only a short matter of time before the rest of the Dark Families were in line. Sirius had then visited some of the Light families as well. While the Blacks had quite a lot of dirt on the dark families, and could still keep them in line, the Light families were another matter. The Black information network was rather limited here, as many families like the Bones, the Longbottoms, the Potters and the Prewitts were happy to breed their own crop of house-elves privately, even though they weren't as intelligent as the Black house-elves. A small number of the Light Families had bought Black elves, but that used to be enough. Then Dumbledore came along.<p>

The main reason why Albus Dumbledore was hated so much by the Blacks in particular was the fact that the man had done a lot of manoeuvring behind the scenes till he suddenly came out in the open as a powerhouse for the Light families. Suddenly the hold the Blacks had on the Light families started to wane, as the Light families started banding together under Dumbledore's banner.

Sirius was initially proud of and happy for Dumbledore, but now he found himself cursing the old man.

But still, Sirius wasn't completely helpless. It was easy to play on the sympathies of Augusta Longbottom, who was deeply connected to the Potters and had been charmed by a young Sirius Black. Having the Longbottoms on the side of the Black family was something that would have been impossible in the last generation. Others like the McDougal and the Bones families were brought in thanks to their strong sense of justice, even though they were either in Dumbledore's pocket or unfailingly neutral.

Once he was sure he had enough backing, the first thing Sirius did after claiming the family seat in the Wizengamot was strong-arm the Ministry into giving him an Order of Merlin, First class, no less.

Then, he demanded the unsealing of James and Lily Potter's will. Dumbledore tried to prevent it, but with a good majority of families on his side, Sirius won the round. The will was a simple document, containing two points. The first salient point was the fact that Sirius Black was not the secret keeper, but Peter Pettigrew. This naturally created a furore of hushed whispering and inhaled breaths. At a subtle cue from Sirius, one of the members demanded why the will had been sealed in the first place. To this Dumbledore gave his usual vague assurances that managed to pacify quite a number of the Light and Neutral families, though not many were happy about it.

Then came the next and final item, the issue of Harry's guardianship: Sirius was named as the primary guardian and the executor of the Potter estate. Dumbledore had raised the objection that his unfortunate incarceration in Azkaban did not make Sirius eligible as his mental state could be questionable. This was countered by a team of five Mind Healers being called in, each of whom testified that Sirius was actually quite sane.

But Dumbledore wasn't done yet. He made allegations that Harry was now happy with his guardians and so the boy's wishes should be respected. To this Sirius gave the memory of the night when Harry readily agreed to live with Sirius the minute the offer was made. To further this, the few letters where Harry mentioned looking forward to staying with Sirius were also shown for the Wizengamot's consideration. Reading the letters and watching the memories not only made it clear that the boy wanted nothing to do with the Muggles, but also put a bit of mud in Dumbledore's eye as he was caught out.

To further undermine Dumbledore, Sirius had also prearranged for a few of his "allies" to loudly air their concerns outside the Wizengamot Chambers about their concerns of the kind of relationship Harry Potter probably had with the Muggles if he was ready and willing to basically run off and live with the first person to offer him a home. Sirius knew that the media would eat that up.

And finally, the last part of the second half of the will was read where the parents never wished for Harry to go to Lily's Muggle sister (the word Muggle was stressed here). Sirius then made a speech about how it was a shame that the last member of a pureblood family that could trace its history back all the way to the founding of Hogwarts was being brought up in ignorance of his heritage and Wizarding Tradition.

Defeated, Dumbledore reluctantly asked for a vote. The decision was quite unanimous. Those who weren't in Sirius' pocket wanted to make things up to the poor heroic soul who did so much to ensure his godson was safe from harm. The less sappy ones did not want their national icon to be raised by a bunch of Muggles. They did not have anything against Muggles, per se, they just felt it ... better ... if the Boy Who Lived, and the Potter scion were to be raised in their culture.

Once it was established that Sirius would now get custody, he then visited the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Getting the Minister into his pocket was disgustingly easy. Between being seen as a paragon of justice and righting the wrongs of the previous administration and the fame of being associated with both the Boy Who Lived and the infamous Sirius Black, offering even a Knut as a "donation" to charities was grossly redundant.

Sirius had then respectfully and politely requested that his name in the Muggle world be also cleared. After all, he reasoned, it would not do for him to get in trouble with the Muggle police when he goes to collect his godson.

Once the Muggle Prime Minister was squared off, and both Magical and Muggle media sources had run the story for a few days making sure that the public knew the truth (in the case of the Muggles, a watered down modified version of the truth), all Sirius had to do was collect his godson.

But first he needed to make a few preparations. That basically meant making an impression on the Muggles. Thanks to Andromeda (to whom the elation of being reinstated in the family was still fresh) he already had a few decent sets of robes. However, he was going to be venturing into the Muggle world. And wherever Sirius Black goes, an impression should be made.

He was a Black after all. Years in Azkaban and growing up had made him embrace his heritage. After all, the Blacks were the power. And he definitely wanted that.

* * *

><p>So when Sirius rang the doorbell, he was attired in clothes that were made of the best materials Twilfit and Tattings had to offer.<p>

The door opened to reveal a horse-faced woman with a long neck that from Lily's descriptions could only be Petunia Dursley.

'Petunia Dursley, I presume?' he said. He had never met the woman. Lily had decided not to expose her then fiancé and his mates to her sister. And Sirius could see why. Just looking at the woman caused a strong sense of dislike to well up within him. He could feel the open judgement in her eyes. What was most annoying (and simultaneously satisfying) was the look on her face as she saw his acromantula silk shirt done up with platinum buttons inset with diamonds. She had the sour look of a schoolgirl who just found out that the kid she was trying to impress with her new dress was better clad than her.

'SIRIUS!'

The self-satisfied smirk on Sirius' face morphed into a genuine smile as his godson practically ran into him, just stopping short at the last moment. Not knowing what to make of the uncertain look on the boy's face, he reached out and ruffled Harry's hair.

'Hey, sport,' he said. 'I know I said I would be here half an hour earlier, but I had a few problems finding my way here.' He smiled apologetically, 'That and getting used to my new set of wheels.' He added as he jerked his thumb behind him.

Harry looked over his godfather's shoulder and saw a brand new gleaming Lamborghini Diablo. Sirius was quite proud of his purchase. When he and James had turned eighteen, the trend among young wizards of their age was to get a driving licence. And the two friends weren't exceptions, despite their wizarding upbringing.

At first Sirius wanted to get another Enfield (seeing that Hagrid did not have the manners to give him back his old one). Then he saw this beauty. A flash of his Coutts World Signia Charge Card, and he was driving off with a yellow coloured specimen of the magnificent car (despite never having driven a car like this before). At the earliest opportunity, he put in a Supersensory Charm and a Caterwauling Charm to make the handling easier and theft impossible. With that done, he sped off to Harry's house, yowling like a madman.

Harry spent a moment goggling at the gleaming car before focussing back on his godfather. 'Yeah, trunk's right there.' He pointed to the foot of the stairs. Sirius looked on in amusement as the boy all but skipped over to his luggage and began dragging it.

'Harry, hang on a moment.'

The teenager gave Sirius a look that was questioning and wary.

'Kreacher!'

The Dursleys gasped, shaken out of their trance on seeing the gleaming car as one of the filthiest house-elves Harry had ever seen appeared in front of him. 'Master calls?' the elf said in a voice that sounded like a bullfrog. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, bat-like ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery grey, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snout-like.

Sirius looked at the elf with a grimace. It was unfortunate that he had to use the creature, but with the other Black family elves occupied with renovating the large property in France, and as well as their island home, he had no other choice. It was a pity that the Potter family elves had all perished.

He was thankful that he had already ordered the elf to stop muttering foul imprecations about him and Harry under its breath. The elf looked like he dearly wanted to do something like that. However, it was forced to satisfy itself by insulting the Muggles under its breath when Petunia's shrieking drew its attention. Sirius decided to give the elf that one luxury. After all, the look on the fat, lightly perspiring, and over-dressed Muggle's face was quite entertaining.

Sneering at the elf, Sirius told him to take Harry's trunk and place it gently in the room he had picked for his godson.

'Where's your owl?'

Harry had a worried look on his face. 'She flew off with that big Snowy Owl that you sent.'

Sirius chuckled. 'Really, wow! At least our owls are getting along fine.'

'Oh,' Harry relaxed. 'That's yours?'

'Oh yes, bought him yesterday. He doesn't have a name yet, I couldn't find one, so that job's yours. Right, now why don't you go and sit inside the car? I need to have a few words with your relatives.' He sneered at the Muggles at this.

Harry caught the keys and slowly walked to the car, wondering what his godfather wanted from his aunt and uncle. He was quite startled to see such a Malfoy-esque expression on Sirius' face.

As soon as godson left, Sirius' expression morphed into a cool haughty look perfected in his teenage years as he regarded the Dursleys. It was like riding a bike.

'Now ... there is some business you and I have to discuss...' Sirius did not know it, but with his haggard and wasted face, he looked downright menacing as he loomed over the Dursleys.

Standing outside, Harry wondered what it was that his godfather had to say to his relatives. He had to admit to being nervous. For one, he hoped that his treatment at their hands never came to light. Secondly, he hoped that his aunt and uncle did not behave rudely towards Sirius. The crass way in which they had behaved with Harry's friends whenever they had (briefly) met was quite embarrassing.

After what felt like a very long time, the front door opened with a bang and a furious Sirius Black stalked out of the house, pocketing a sheaf of documents. At that moment, Harry noticed the neighbours who were definitely not spying from behind their curtained windows.

'Is everything alright?' Harry asked his godfather when Sirius neared the car.

'Fine,' Sirius said throwing a filthy look at the house. While his Legilimency skills were lacking, and would not be able to penetrate the mind of a five year old wizard, they were more than enough to rifle through the mind of a Muggle. What he had seen in the Dursleys' heads was something he wished he could forget. The way they had treated Harry ... he now had another reason to hate Dumbledore. Taking a deep breath he said civilly. 'Well, get in.'

After some struggling with the unusual doors, Harry was seated in the passenger seat. He had never been in something so exciting before, but he had seen them and had heard stories. The first thing he noticed as he buckled up was the smell of leather. The second thing that assaulted his senses was the sound of the engine thrumming as Sirius turned the key.

'Ready?' asked Sirius. Without waiting for an answer, he took off.

* * *

><p>With a <em>thump<em>, Harry landed on the bed of his new room. The ride to London had been quite fun, despite Sirius nearly killing the two of them and other motorists on many occasions. According to his godfather, the car was quite the beast and the turning was especially tricky.

Harry privately thought that it was Sirius' skills and not the car that was to blame. Not that he was complaining. The ride was quite fun in his opinion!

Their trip to the house was interrupted by Sirius' impromptu shopping spree. Disgusted by the rags Harry was wearing, the former prisoner had decided to get his godson some new clothes.

While Harry was more than happy at getting clothes of his own that fit, he found that he really did not like the concept of getting a whole new wardrobe. As it stood, he barely remembered the day, except for the first five minutes where Sirius had gently but firmly dismissed his stammered protestations that he did not need new clothes, and the time where they had eaten at a fast food restaurant, where for the first time Harry got to eat as much fatty, greasy food as he wanted. Additionally, now that he thought about it, another memorable moment was where Sirius saved him from dying of embarrassment by letting him pick out his own underwear.

_Sirius was pretty cool,_ Harry thought as he drifted off.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene III<strong>

* * *

><p>'Well, a good morning to you, sleepyhead,' Sirius said as Harry stumbled into the kitchen and plopped down on the first chair he could find.<p>

Sirius chuckled as the boy answered with a grunt. Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, he started cooking breakfast, occasionally looking back at the boy and trying not to laugh.

Mouth twitching, Sirius put a glass of warm milk in front of the boy. Harry did not give the glass much of a glance as he drained the contents in a few gulps. Sirius suspected that he was pretty hungry, not having come down for dinner last night as he was too tired from their day out. Sirius found the teen passed out on top of the bed of his new room (incidentally Regulus's old room – Sirius' room wasn't fit for Harry, and the other rooms were too small, not to mention filthy).

Smiling softly, Sirius tucked the thirteen year old in. Once his godson was snug under the sheets, Sirius thoughtfully removed the clothes the boy was wearing with a flick of his wand. From personal experience, Sirius knew that waking up in yesterday's clothes wasn't the best way to start the day. He was also used to changing Harry like this when he was babysitting the tot, so he had not given it much thought when he cast that incantation.

Only now, in the morning, when Sirius saw the teen stumble in, clad only in his pants and glasses, did he realise the unintentional prank he had played on his godson. He hadn't been able to find pyjamas, and had honestly expected his godson to put something on before coming downstairs!

'Had a good night's sleep?' he asked courteously. There were creases visible on the pale skin of Harry's stomach, no doubt caused by his body being pressed against the sheets. His glasses were slightly askew as he rested his face against a hand. His hair was sticking up everywhere, which coupled with his thin body, reminded Sirius of a dandelion.

Harry gave another grunt as he slowly blinked and tried to wake up. To be fair to the boy, it was pretty early in the morning. It was quite surprising that Harry had woken up so early.

Turning around to check on the food, Sirius' ears picked out the exact moment when his godson had woken up enough to notice his current state of undress.

The teenager only gave a small 'Eep,' before the chair crashed to the ground as he made his escape. Turning around, Sirius caught a flash of an underwear covered backside disappearing as Harry ran for his room. It was a good thing that he had insisted that the boy change into some new clothes as soon as he bought them. Those Muggles really were barbarians, making their nephew wear hand-me-downs.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Sirius broke down laughing. He hadn't had the chance to laugh at a prank in so long. Why the last time he had done this, it was on James...

Thoughts about his deceased friend immediately darkened his mood.

The rustle of clothes caused him to look up, interrupting his brooding. Harry was standing just inside the doorway, decently dressed and looking rather sheepish.

'Um, sorry about ... that ...' the boy muttered with a deep flush, not meeting Sirius' eyes. 'Guess I must have undressed before going to sleep and not noticed ... I didn't mean to...'

Sirius looked at the boy in confusion. He hadn't figured it out? The faded smile returned. Sirius considered telling the teenager about it, but desisted. He doubted his godson would take being treated like an infant well. Besides, it was much more fun this way.

Harry stared at the table top, unable to speak anymore. Mortified, he was unable to meet his godfather's eye. He did not know how Sirius would react to this. The Dursleys were always quite proper about such things. Harry was nervous about what Sirius would say.

His godfather cleared his throat, making Harry warily look up. He was surprised to see a small smile on the older man's face and a twinkle in his eye that made him look years younger.

'Hey, it's alright,' Sirius said with a straight face. 'It's just the two of us men here. Currently we have no female company, and that hag hanging out in the hallway doesn't count. Besides, you don't have anything I haven't seen.' His voice trembled in suppressed mirth as he fought to control his laughter at Harry's mortified expression. 'I have no objections to you roaming around in your underwear, if it makes you feel comfortable. I mean, you were quite the exhibitionist ever since you learnt how to crawl. Just don't go fully starkers. I don't think my eyes will be able to take seeing your skinny little arse.'

Harry's face turned a deeper red at this. 'Okay,' he finally squeaked. Clearing his throat, he wildly thought of something to change the subject.

Luckily that was soon taken care of.

'What's that smell?'

Turning around, Sirius cursed as he saw the burning food. Waving his wand, he killed the flame. But it was too late. Coughing, he cleared the smoke and cursed some more when he saw the carbonised remains of their breakfast.

'Oh well,' he said with a rueful smile. 'Looks like we're going out for breakfast.'

* * *

><p>Walking back to the house after a full breakfast, Sirius started talking.<p>

'Now, there are a few things we need to talk about. First and foremost is our current residence.'

'Yeah, about that,' Harry spoke up wanting to ask a question that had been on the forefront of his mind. 'Why is the house so...?' he trailed off.

'... cheerful?' Sirius interjected with a smile. Sobering up, he continued. 'It used to be much better before, quite elegant. Now, however, thanks to twelve years of neglect, the house looks frankly creepy.'

He heaved a big sigh as he opened the door. Beckoning Harry towards the kitchen, he sat down at the dining table and waited for his godson to do the same.

'We do have other properties, but those are worse off. There are five elves, not counting Kreacher, in our family. Currently I have them rebuilding the holiday home we have, along with the villa in France. So in the meantime we will have to manage on our own without much help.' The room lapsed into silence as Sirius stared off into the distance.

Harry wondered for a moment why Sirius was renovating the villa in France first. Surely it would be better to take care of this place first? But he stayed silent. He wasn't sure if it was his right to ask such a question.

The remark about properties got Harry thinking about another thing.

'Did my family have properties?'

Sirius focussed on Harry. 'Yes, and I checked those out for you ...' he took a deep breath before continuing. 'The Potters do have a large manor out in the countryside along with the small cottage in Godric's Hollow and a few cottages here and there. Unfortunately kid, your house-elves have all perished. So your manor is in a much worse state. In fact, I had to hire the goblins to put up preservation charms to ensure that the house doesn't fall into ruin. As for the cottage in Godric's Hollow, well, that's where you and your parents were living before...'

Sirius did not complete his sentence, but Harry knew what he was trying to say. It was the he and his parents were living in before Voldemort attacked. 'What happened to it?' he asked in a dry voice.

'It's still intact, if heavily damaged,' Sirius said slowly. 'But you cannot live in it even if you wanted to. See, the thing is that it has been turned over to the Ministry as a monument.'

'But ... but ... they can't do that! ... How...'

'It was the person who appointed themselves your magical guardian.' Sirius softly said.

Harry looked at the man, processing the information. 'Who?' he finally asked in a whisper.

'Dumbledore,'

'P – Professor _Dumbledore_?' Harry was stunned. 'Why would he do that?'

In response to that, Sirius sneered. 'I haven't had the chance to ask him personally, but from what I know, it was to "honour your parents".' Breathing deeply, he got himself under control. 'Still, it isn't too bad. The property is still owned by the Potter family. The proceeds from the _tours_-' he spat the word out with a look of disgust evident in his voice. '-conducted there go directly to your family vault. It's a good thing that Dumbledore can't use your money to contribute to charity without your consent. Otherwise your family fortune would have been worse off.'

'What do you –?'

Sirius exhaled explosively. He knew that it wasn't the boy's fault, but really, you'd think he would comprehend things a bit faster.

'The old man hasn't done anything to manage your businesses and investments. As it is, your family fortune is half of what it used to be. It would have been much worse if it wasn't for the income you get from the few solid investments and the steady income from the destroyed house turned monument. Had this been left unchecked, you would probably have been out on the streets by the time you reached your majority.' Sirius knew he was exaggerating a tad, okay, a lot, but he needed to make the lad understand.

Harry just sat there looking at his godfather blankly, trying to process the information. Apparently the headmaster, the one person who Harry looked up to was his magical guardian. And according to Sirius, he had been careless with Harry's money. But that couldn't be true ... could it?

'I can see you need time to think about it,' Sirius' voice broke through his thoughts. 'But consider this; he was also the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot fifteen years back. Yet he had me sent to Azkaban without a trial. He also put you in with those ... people.'

'Now, moving on,' Sirius continued in a tone of forced lightness after a few moments of strained silence. 'The long and short of it is that the Black properties are being renovated. The Black fortune is also quite depleted as well, but it isn't too bad. It should start picking up since I have started managing the businesses as well. Since I am now your magical guardian as well as your legal guardian, I have taken over the Potter fortune as well. But we'll discuss that later.

'Since the elves are occupied, and Kreacher is ... not very cooperative, I am afraid that the two of us will have to take care of the cleaning here.'

'Erm, why can't we just rent a room in a hotel for the summer at least?'

Sirius gave Harry a long look that made the thirteen year old fidget. 'What?' Harry finally asked nervously.

'You mean you don't know?' Sirius raised his eyebrows.

'Know what?'

Sirius simply raised his wand. 'Peter Pettigrew escaped two days back.' Grabbing the paper that came shooting towards him, he handed it to Harry who saw Pettigrew's face on the front page. Stunned, Harry read the article underneath. Ron's former "pet" had gone missing from his cell just as he was about to be transferred to Azkaban.

'Since Peter's at large,' Sirius said. 'I don't feel comfortable without some wards between us and the outside world.'

'I thought you'd want to track him down.' Harry replied, setting the paper down. He froze when he saw the ugly look on Sirius' face.

'Initially, yes I wanted very much to do something like that.' Sirius said slowly his voice flat. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Harry in the eye. 'But then I realised one thing. My primary responsibility is to see to your care and happiness. Everything else can go to hell for all I care.' Suddenly feeling emotional, Sirius looked away. 'I made a mistake once ... I am not going to repeat it again. You are, you always were, my first priority. I won't forget that again.'

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this. He was touched that Sirius cared about him so much as to consider him his number one priority. Nobody had done that before. But at the same time he did not know what to say.

'Thanks ...' he finally said shyly. 'For ... you know ...' shrugging he looked at the patterns on the table, absently picking at his new designer jeans. He was also quite uncomfortable at the heavy tone Sirius' voice had taken.

Sirius only cleared his throat before continuing. 'Well, anyway, we're stuck here and we have to clean the house.'

Looking up (and silently grateful that Sirius sounded normal) Harry nodded. 'So where do we start?' he asked.

'Unfortunately, it's not that simple.' Sirius replied with a chuckle. 'The years of abandonment haven't left the house safe. Unlike Muggle homes where nothing happens except for an accumulation of dust, we have to deal with curses, enchantments and charms that have gone bad, and most importantly, common magical creatures and pests that will have taken up residence.'

He leaned forward, his tone extremely serious. 'As I mentioned before, Harry, the Blacks weren't a nice family. Because of their ... alignment ... the house can become especially dangerous, even more so to a child. So rule number one: you are _not _to go wandering off anywhere within the house. And rule number two: No handling anything strange or unfamiliar without me present, am I clear?'

Even though Harry nodded in agreement, internally he bristled at Sirius' words. He was _not _a child! Besides, how bad was an old house compared to the traps of the Philosopher's Stone or the Chamber of Secrets?

'Good,' Sirius nodded. 'Except for your room, the kitchen and the corridor between the aforementioned rooms and the way to the front door, you aren't to go anywhere alone. And if you see anything strange, do not even touch it without my say-so.'

Seeing Harry nod one more time, Sirius narrowed his eyes. 'Good. For your sake I hope you don't break any of these rules. I am not kidding around, mate. You won't like the consequences if you disobey.'

Harry gulped at the stern tone before nodding, tacking on a 'Yes Sir,' as well for good measure. Even though he wondered what "consequences" Sirius was talking about, he didn't want to know.

Hearing the verbal answer, Sirius sat back, satisfied. He honestly did not know what he would do if he found Harry endangering himself, and he hoped that he wouldn't have to think about it. But he had a funny feeling that he would eventually end up crossing that bridge.

'Good, now, on to other matters.' Sirius said in a calmer tone. He stared at Harry silently for a few moments before saying. 'How did you do in your third-year exams?'

Harry was caught off guard. 'Sorry, what?'

'Your third-year exams,' Sirius said slowly. 'You know..., that thing where the teachers decide to find out how much you know of their subject matter? How did you fare?'

'Um, I guess I did alright. In Astronomy –'

'Why don't you just get your mark sheet?' Sirius interrupted gently. 'We can look through the marks and then talk about it. In fact, get your previous years' marks cards too while you are at it.'

Harry looked at Sirius for a short moment before getting up and heading towards his room.

As he went upstairs, Harry wondered if the nervousness he was feeling was normal. He barely glanced at the newly painted walls of his bedroom (which was much larger than his old room in Privet Drive). Locating his trunk at the foot of his large bed (an elaborate affair with an intricately carved headboard) he dug around the mess. Finally locating his third year marks card, he plucked it out. His first year marks card required some more digging before he could find that. Obtaining it, he closed the door of the room and headed back down, the documents in hand.

Harry walked into the kitchen with a slight amount of trepidation. While he felt that he had done well in his exams, he did not know what his godfather thought of his marks. Harry suddenly remembered that his father and Sirius had both managed to become Animagi by their fifth year through self-study. According to Professor McGonagall, becoming an Animagus was very difficult and required intensive training and competent instructors. So it meant that his dad and Sirius must have been really smart indeed. Even smarter than Hermione (he doubted that his friend would be capable of the same feat). Harry wondered if he would measure up to both of them.

Harry handed the documents over to Sirius. He suddenly wished that he had studied more for his exams. It did not escape his notice that this was the first time he was asked for his report card by a parental figure.

Other than a raised eyebrow at the creased and worn report cards, Sirius' expression was neutral as he silently looked at Harry's marks.

'You have done quite well in Defence,' he finally said approvingly after what seemed like a long while. 'However,' he frowned, looking up at the boy standing across him. 'I think you could do better in Transfiguration and Charms.'

Harry fidgeted under his gaze. This uncomfortable feeling was quite new to him. 'I guess,' he finally muttered.

'Well, McGonagall and Flitwick both seem to think so too.'

Harry just mumbled something in response.

'Where's your second year marks card?'

Harry promptly launched into the story of his second year, highlighting the important events.

'And so the exams were cancelled.'

Sirius sat there and looked at Harry in stunned silence. 'I think you are leaving out a few points, but we'll get to that later. For now, this is what we are going to do. Starting tomorrow, after breakfast we shall do some cleaning till one. Then we will have lunch. After that, you are going to sit with me and we shall go over our finances. And by that I mean both Potter and Black investments. You will soon be taking these over once you are of age. Well, you will have the Potter investments when you turn seventeen, and the Black investments will be turned over to you once I either kick the cauldron, not that's going to happen soon,' he added hastily. 'Or when I get bored of all this and decide to retire and spend my days lying on my back and lazing in the sun.'

'After that,' here he paused to give Harry a piercing look. 'We will sit together and work on your schoolwork. Since I am good at Transfiguration, and moderately decent in Charms, I can help you with those. I honestly don't know how good you are in Potions, seeing as old Sniv is teaching you, and he is an unpleasant sort. I, myself am not great at it. I only got enough to pass the requirement to become an Auror. Your mother, though, was really gifted, but I digress. I'll talk to some people about getting you a Potions tutor to assess your grasp of the subject. You seem to be quite an intelligent boy, Harry, and your professors agree with me on this. I want to see this reflected in your marks.'

Unused to the novelty of having someone actually care for his academics, Harry ducked his head as he felt a sudden heaviness in his eyes. Thankfully his eyes remained dry. He would have been beyond mortified if he started blubbing like a baby in front of his godfather for no good reason.

'Finally,' Sirius said looking at the third year marks card in confusion. 'Why have you taken Divination? Care of Magical Creatures, I can understand. It's a fun class, and gets really interesting later on, but _Divination_?' he gave his godson a weird look. 'In my time, it was considered a girly subject. I think there were a total of two boys who went for it. One was Peter and the other one was in a relationship with a guy named Paul, the last I checked.'

It took some extra prodding for Sirius to finally get to the bottom of the answer. 'Oh Harry,' he said, pinching his nose. He really should have expected this. From what he had gleaned from those worthless Muggles, they had deliberately kept Harry as downtrodden and unmotivated as possible. He still seethed in rage when he found out Petunia's initial plans for the boy when she had first clapped eyes on him. She planned on keeping him from his heritage, sending him to some local comprehensive school and with her fat husband's help, making sure that Harry did no more than get enough marks to just pass. Eventually she envisioned him being in some low-paying job as she kicked him out the minute he came of age. In her twisted mind, it was the perfect revenge on Lily for daring to be different.

Thankfully intervention from the magical world put paid to those plans.

The Dursleys would get theirs, but right now, Sirius had a job to do.

'Harry,' he said slowly. 'Taking a subject just because your friend is doing it isn't an excuse. Even if it was, why didn't you take Ancient Runes or Arithmancy like your other friend, Hermione?'

Not getting any response (not that he expected any) Sirius continued. 'At any rate, you need to know Arithmancy, if you want to be able to properly manage your holdings. After all, all that money was accumulated over the years by your ancestors through hard work. So you will be learning some of the basics from me. This year onwards, you _will_ be taking Arithmancy. I would prefer you take Ancient Runes as well, but if you don't want to, that's your decision. But, you are going to drop Divination. The subject is useless and meant only for either those with Seer blood running in their families, or for ninnies. And you, son, are neither.'

Harry nodded jerkily, fully overcome with emotion. While he felt about ten inches tall with the tongue lashing he had been given, he also felt elated that somebody finally cared enough about his life to do something to make it better. For so long, he had been on his own...

Stern expression fading, Sirius got up. 'Hey, now,' he said gently as he engulfed Harry in a brief hug. 'I know I sounded harsh, Harry, but I really want what's best for you.' Pulling out of the hug, he caressed the back of the boy's neck. 'Besides, it could be much worse ... at least I haven't threatened to pull you out of the Quidditch Team if your marks aren't satisfactory.'

Harry's head shot up at this. 'Y – You aren't –'

Chuckling, Sirius ruffled the boy's hair. 'Well, I haven't ... yet ... but that is an option I won't hesitate using.' Fixing the boy a stern look he said, 'See that you don't give me reason to consider threatening you that way.'

Sirius' lips twitched at the speed at which the boy nodded.

'Good,' he clapped the boy's shoulder. 'Now, why don't you go up and unpack? You have a big wardrobe that needs filling and we have some clothes that need burning. Hop to it.'

Playfully smacking the teenager's bum, Sirius sent the boy out of the kitchen.

Once Harry had left, Sirius heavily sat back down. He was quite surprised at how _parental_ he sounded.

He silently exhaled. At least things had gone smoothly. He was definitely not looking forward to the first time he had to punish the boy. He fervently hoped that time never came.

* * *

><p>Harry unpacked his things with a small smile on his face. Things had started off well. Admittedly he did have his reservations. The day after he had happily said yes, the doubts had started. What if Sirius wasn't as brilliant as Harry thought? What if Azkaban was too hard on him and he decided that he didn't want a kid like Harry around? It was thoughts like this that had plagued his mind till Sirius had come to pick him up.<p>

Of course, the doubts hadn't been fully laid to rest, but they had been muted. Harry would never admit it out loud, but he had enjoyed the hug (however brief) and a small part of him was elated at being called "son" by Sirius, even if that was a casual use of the term.

Harry decided that Sirius was right to expect all that he said. After all, he only wanted Harry to do well. But he couldn't help but bristle a little at the demands that he drop Divination. Sure the subject was stupid, and Trelawney couldn't go one class without predicting Harry's death, but at the same time, Harry did enjoy making stuff up for his homework and getting away with it. Professor McGonagall, for one, could spot a shoddy piece of homework in a trice.

* * *

><p>The next few days passed in a whirlwind. While Harry never did take up Sirius' (in Sirius' own opinion) generous offer about the dress code, he did adjust to the new timetable Sirius had set for him. The very next day, Harry found out about one major advantage that living with Sirius afforded him. He could use magic!<p>

According to his godfather, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place (the name still cracked Harry up – his godfather was called Sirius, and he stayed in a grim old place.) was protected by a large number of wards. This high concentration of magic, plus the fact that Harry was living with an adult wizard meant that the Ministry could not properly tell if Harry was using magic. In fact, they couldn't even tell if _anyone_ was using magic in the house.

And so, for the first time in his life, Harry experienced the joys of being able to use the arcane force outside school and to his heart's content.

Cleaning Grimmauld Place wasn't a monotonous affair. The old house was riddled with common magical pests and other minor creatures that Harry had learnt about in his third year. They had so far encountered Doxies, a Boggart, a Bundimun (which Sirius very reluctantly dispatched) and a particularly murderous ghoul.

As Sirius had mentioned, there were quite a few objects which had mutated as the enchantments placed on them warped with the prolonged exposure to the wild magic. For example, the library (the first room they had started cleaning) had a bunch of books that had gone feral and had developed the habit of bashing people on the head every time someone came close to them.

It was less like cleaning and more like waging war with a house. And the house had help, in the form of Kreacher, the Black family's house-elf.

Sirius sorely wished that he could get rid of the elf. However, he suspected that the elf knew a few secrets and would be more than happy to run off to Narcissa. He did not fancy killing it either since he found that distasteful. But, as the days went by, he began to find the prospect of killing the wretched creature more and more appealing.

The elf particularly hated Harry and his hatred of Sirius had grown exponentially. Sirius even knew when that had happened and why. Kreacher really did not like it when he had given Regulus' old room to Harry and had all of his younger brother's possessions shelved and stored.

While Sirius knew that the elf could not harm him or Harry directly, he knew it would be a matter of time before the elf found a way to go around Sirius' orders. Harry's story about the Malfoy house-elf had only made him worry more.

As they cleaned the house and boxed many heirlooms (for perusal and, if necessary, disposal) the elf's resentment visibly grew till Sirius was forced to order Kreacher to stay in his mother's old room. Sirius dearly hoped the elf found some satisfaction with being close to Walburga's and Regulus' possessions.

The upshot of the cleaning escapade was Harry's education. Sirius used the opportunity to teach the boy some new curses, charms and hexes, some of which were a Black family secret. He also used every situation they came across as a lesson to teach Harry.

The boy really was quite bright. He had picked up the basics of Arithmancy quickly and was capable of making instinctive leaps of logic. If Sirius wasn't mistaken, Harry would soon be able to join the Arithmancy class with the rest of his peers.

They had also revisited the last three years of Harry's magical education at Hogwarts. Compared to teaching a dim-witted chubby talentless twit the process of becoming an Animagus, revising the basics of transfiguration with his fairly intelligent godson was easy and far more rewarding. Mentioning the possibility of Animagus lessons lit a fire in the teenager's eyes, making him put more effort into his studies.

Sirius was not as good in Charms, but he had managed to scrape a decent E in his N.E.W.T.s. Thankfully, he only had to deal with the first three years of the syllabus. That was easy.

Potions was a major weak spot for Sirius. He had only done the bare minimum to get his N.E.W.T.s, just enough to get into the Auror program. He never did like that subject, despite Slughorn's capability to teach well. Out of the four of them, Peter (and he still couldn't say that name without a surge of hot anger coursing through him) was the best in the subject.

Judging by Harry's report card, he was passable at Potions. But Sirius didn't hold much value towards to those marks seeing as they were given by Snape.

And hence, the need to get a tutor for Harry: Sirius had sent out enquiries for his old teacher. He wondered if Slughorn was still around and willing to make a quick Galleon or two as a private tutor. The allure of instructing the Boy Who Lived would be enough to get the walrus coming! Unfortunately, Slughorn had yet to reply to the letter sent to him. Finding another free Potions Master in Britain was proving to be quite a difficult task. Sirius was beginning to consider lowering his standards to settling for a recent school leaver who had good marks in Potions, or just getting someone who obtained a good O.W.L. result in the subject. Teenagers always loved to make extra pocket money.

Until then, they had to make do with the library. It had taken three days, but it was the first room to be "cleaned" and declared safe for Harry to enter without supervision. Sirius hoped that Slughorn came soon, his plans to send the boy to Beauxbatons would be helped greatly then.

But all that could happen later. Right now, he had a more pressing issue to take care of.

It was a week after Harry had come to live in Grimmauld Place, and Sirius felt that it was high time to broach an important subject.

'Before we commence with cleaning, I have something I want to talk to you about.' Sirius said gravely.

'What about?'

Looking at Harry carefully, Sirius began to speak. 'I have been doing some thinking, and I am of the opinion that you would be better off going to a different magical school.'

'You're pulling me out of school?' Harry asked numbly.

'Well, not exactly. I plan on transferring you from Hogwarts to a different school. So it isn't exactly "pulling you out"'

'But – but where?'

'Beauxbatons,' Sirius replied succinctly. 'It's in France.'

Hearing this, the pieces fell in place for Harry. Now he understood why Sirius had the elves renovating the villa in France.

As he listened to Sirius talking about how he felt it was safer there instead of Hogwarts, Harry began to get angry.

'NO! I won't let you! Just because Dum –'

Quick as a whip, Sirius drew out his wand and cast a silencing charm on the boy before he could finish. It took Harry a moment to realise that he could not speak.

'Calm down,' Sirius said in a low voice. The unsaid comment about Dumbledore had struck a nerve. Seeing a still mutinous expression on the boy's face, Sirius sighed. 'Let me put it this way,' he said calmly. 'You have a choice. The first route you can take is the one you currently have chosen. Here, you will yell, and I will tell you to watch your tone and give my reasons for sending you to Beauxbatons. At this point, I will be reasonable enough to hear any counter argument you have. But then you will yell more, throwing in some colourful words in the middle. Then I will tell you to watch your tone and your language. By this time, I won't be in any mood to listen to any point you want to make, no matter how valid it might be. So, I will proceed to put my foot down and say that you are going to Beauxbatons, and that is final. On hearing that, you will initially be shocked, but then will recover and say something hurtful, mean and/or defiant. Then you will get up and go to your room, probably stomping around like a deranged elephant. When you reach your room, you will proceed to slam the door as hard as you possibly could. Then you will sulk, give me dirty looks every time we meet, have a few tantrums now and then, and basically make this a miserable experience for both you and me.

'The end result of this path will be you going to Beauxbatons at the start of their term, which according to this,' he waved a brochure, 'Is, quite conveniently, on the first of September.'

'Now that is what's going to happen if you, in short, act like a small child. However, there is another path. Here, instead of yelling as loudly as possible, you calmly listen to what I have to say and then, once I am done, you evenly and _respectfully_ give me your counter-argument. In short, we will have an _adult_ discussion. Should you decide to go down this route ... well there is a chance that I might listen to what you have to say and not have you transferred to Beauxbatons.'

Sirius paused for a moment to let his words sink into the boy's skull. Seeing Harry reasonably calm, he said. 'Well? Have you made your choice? I will take this opportunity to tell you that if you plan on going the first route, then please feel free to get up right now and go to your room where you can throw as violent a tantrum as you want, because you will soon be finding out how good you look in light blue robes. You see, I really don't cherish having to argue. It gives me acidity.'

He had seen James' father do the very same thing to James once (not that James knew about it) and had been quite impressed with the tactic. He hoped that it worked here.

Seeing that Harry had not moved, Sirius smiled and lifted the silencing charm.

'Right, now why I want you to go to Beauxbatons,' Sirius began. 'The main reason is that you seem to be in a lot of danger in Hogwarts. I have listened to your stories about your exploits over the past three years in school, and there are a few things that concern me. First we have the Philosopher's Stone in your first year which culminated in you facing off Voldemort at eleven. Additionally, in my opinion, the traps guarding the Stone are quite suspect. Three First-Years, no matter how smart, should not be able to get to such a powerful artefact. That you managed to do so either means that Dumbledore is inept, or he has some agenda planned for you. In your second year you had to face an ancient basilisk of all things. While you were never in any direct danger from me in your third year, and I accept that Pettigrew's disguise was too good for people to notice, two out of three is not a good score, no matter how you put it. And that isn't even considering the dementors that managed to infiltrate the Quidditch pitch.

'Personally, I think you are safer in another school, far away from Britain and Dumbledore. I love Hogwarts, Merlin knows I do, but I prefer that you manage to complete a year without having to risk your life. Your biggest worries should be Quidditch, girls, homework and your end of year exams. Not attempts on your life.'

The room descended into silence as Sirius watched Harry. The boy had his head bowed as he listened to Sirius speak, considering the words. On one hand, he could see Sirius' point of view, but at the same time, he did not want to leave Hogwarts! He had made friends there ... for the very first time! And the school had really grown on him. Twice he looked up at Sirius' calm face and opened his mouth, but both times he had closed it without making a sound.

Seeing his godson getting frustrated, Sirius decided to throw him a bone. 'How about this; we shelve this discussion for now, you think about it, see if you can come up with a reason why you should remain in Hogwarts. At this point there isn't much of a rush, but I would prefer it that we resolve this today evening, tomorrow at the most.'

'OK,' Harry said softly as he stood.

The two of them continued their day as normal. However, Harry was especially quiet as he thought about Sirius' decision.

By the end of the day, Harry was ready to make his case. While he acknowledged the points Sirius had raised, and knew he had no rebuttal, he nevertheless earnestly defended Hogwarts. He spoke about how he had made his first ever friends there and how the castle had always felt like home to him. He then mentioned that Hogwarts was still the best in the world as far as magical education was concerned and that he shouldn't settle for less. Finally in a burst of desperate inspiration, he concluded that the two major incidents in his first and second years were isolated.

'I agree that those traps were really very easy in my first year, Sirius, but the incidents of my second year were because Lucius Malfoy had put that diary with Ginny's book to discredit Mr Weasley and get Dumbledore booted out. There was no involvement on Dumbledore's side. Also, also, well ... most of that stuff wouldn't have happened if we hadn't decided to go after the Stone or the basilisk.'

Sirius considered what Harry said for a long moment.

'So,' he began slowly. 'What you are saying is that you purposefully rushed into danger? This is disturbing ... I think I should look up a mind Healer...'

'No,' Harry said vehemently. 'We did not go looking for danger! It just ... happened.'

'Ah, so trouble just happened to find you ... is _that_ what you are saying?'

Harry shrugged. 'Yeah, I guess.'

'You do realise that this isn't helping your case.' Sirius said matter-of-factly. 'Won't sending you to Beauxbatons make sure that trouble does not find you?'

'How do you know that it won't?' Harry challenged.

Despite himself, Sirius couldn't help but let out a snort of amusement.

'Look, Sirius,' Harry said after a pause. 'Why can't you give this one year a chance? Just one year. I promise that I won't get in any trouble. Besides, this time it's different. There was no real danger the last year, so this one may just be normal! Please?'

Sirius sighed at the pleading look on Harry's face. He knew he shouldn't, he knew that Harry needed to be far away from Dumbledore. But those eyes! He really couldn't say no those large green eyes.

'I'm probably going to regret this,' he finally said as he closed his eyes. 'But, fine. However,' he cut across the boy's cheering. 'Just one year. If I feel that it isn't safe enough, and you are better off in Beauxbatons, then you are going. No arguments.'

'Yes sir,' Harry said enthusiastically. He was going to make sure that Sirius never had any reason to transfer him.

'And I want good marks. Also, you are learning French. There is no harm in learning a foreign language. It builds character.'

Harry's enthusiastic agreement had Sirius wondering if he should make more demands, but he desisted. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene IV<strong>

* * *

><p>'Happy Birthday, Harry!'<p>

Harry's head shot up as he looked at Sirius across the table, the sleepy feeling vanishing. It was a few days later after their discussion about his schooling when he stumbled down to the kitchen. He felt a thrill of pleasure on Sirius wishing him. This was the first time anybody had wished him a happy birthday verbally.

'Ron and Hermione wrote, by the way. They, along with Hagrid, have sent you their best wishes.' He set the wrapped parcels in front of Harry along with a letter each.

Harry happily pulled the presents to him. It answered the question as to why he had not got anything at midnight.

Opening them revealed three large birthday cakes. Sirius took one look at the baked goods and said. 'Well, that's part of your birthday breakfast taken care of.' He took a moment to look at the incredulously happy look on his godson's face before continuing. 'However, you still have to eat the rest.' Saying so, he pushed a plate of food towards the boy along with a glass of milk and a few phials of potions.

'Now, now, don't look at me like that. The Healer prescribed this for you.' Sirius said to the scowling boy.

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Harry drank the milk and started eating his breakfast.

One of the first things Sirius had done was to get his godson's health checked on. The boy, in his opinion, was way too thin. The prospect of visiting a healer nearly had Harry throwing his first ever tantrum. He subsided almost immediately as soon as Sirius looked at him with a steely glint in his eye. Not that it stopped Harry from sulking all the way to St Mungo's and periodically declaring that he was fine and he did not want a healer poking him.

In the end, the check-up was well worth it as it showed that things weren't all rosy. Harry was fairly malnourished. Thankfully his immunisations against magical diseases common to the Wizarding World were taken care of by the school nurse. But the most worrying bit was that his magical core was not where it should have been developmentally speaking.

So the Healer had prescribed a diet for Harry to follow. That was not much of a problem as it basically comprised of all the nutrients, meaning that Harry wasn't stuck to eating disgusting tasting things (the exception being the dragon liver he was forced to eat once a week).

Harry was especially happy when the Healer had suggested he exercise his magic daily. But, the boy really did not like the glass of milk that he had to drink twice per diem. And he particularly hated the potions he had to consume after every meal to help his magical core. The aftertaste was _foul_! He really looked forward to the day when he no longer needed the Potions regimen.

Harry's thoughts of the diet were soon shoved aside when his godfather reminded him of the plans for the rest of the day. The news that he was getting his first birthday party ever had Harry gaping at Sirius with his mouth open till his chuckling godfather gently nudged his jaw closed.

* * *

><p>The Black holiday home was still under construction, and the French Villa was still being renovated and Grimmauld Place wasn't fit for guests, much less a birthday party. So Sirius decided to avail the services of The New Camelot, one of the best upscale hotels in magical Britain.<p>

Harry wished that Ron and Hermione were there. But, unfortunately, the Weasleys were in Romania and the Grangers in France. He still had great fun in the opulent environs of the hotel, though. The party was more of a combination of Neville's and Harry's birthdays (not that Harry minded sharing) so the guest list was quite extensive. Nearly everyone from Harry's year had attended, along with Harry's Quidditch Teammates.

While the kids had their fun, Sirius held court with the parents and other adult guests. A good majority of these people were influential members of the Wizengamot and Sirius had used Harry's fourteenth birthday as a way of getting them together. He did feel guilty for doing this, but it was necessary for his and Harry's future.

By the time the day ended, Harry Potter was exhausted but extremely happy.

Carrying his numerous presents into the house, he thought that the day could not get any better. He was soon to be proved wrong.

'Before you go to sleep, Harry, I have something to give you,' Sirius said, pushing a wrapped parcel to his godson.

'Thanks, Sirius,' Harry said in awe, looking at the pocket knife Sirius had gifted him. It had attachments to undo any knot and open any lock. It was a brilliant end to a brilliant day. Harry already felt that Sirius had done enough by taking him in. Holding a birthday party _and_ giving him a present on top of it? That was something Harry never expected.

But Sirius wasn't done yet. 'Harry,' he said slightly nervously. 'I want to talk to you about something.'

'What is it, Sirius?' Harry replied as he put down his knife. He noticed the nervous look in his godfather's eyes and couldn't help but be nervous himself.

'Well, I was thinking about our relationship, as godfather and godson, ever since you came home. And I realised that I don't want to continue like this.'

'What?' Harry couldn't help but blurt out in shock. It sounded like Sirius no longer wanted him to stay!

Noticing the stricken look on the boy's face, Sirius mentally reviewed his words. Hastily, he said. 'Oh, no, I did not mean it like that! Fuck!' He cursed as he slapped his forehead. 'That came out wrong.'

'What I meant to say was, well, Harry. You know, I am your godfather, and you are my godson. I was thinking that, if you wanted, we could remove the first three letters from our titles? Of course that's if you want it.'

While his fears were appeased and the unpleasant imaginings of having to live with the Dursleys again had died, Harry was now confused.

'I don't –'

'I want to adopt you, magically and legally.' Sirius burst out. He reflected that this was harder than the first time he had asked a girl out. 'That's if you want.' He said awkwardly.

'Adopt me?' Harry asked wonderingly.

Sirius could not decipher Harry's expression. Nonetheless he said sincerely, 'Yes, Harry, adopt you.' Running a hand through his hair, he continued. 'I know that I am not James Potter and that he was and always will be your biological father –'

'Yes.'

Brought to a stuttering halt, Sirius looked at the boy. 'I'm sorry?' he said tentatively, wondering if he had heard wrong.

'Yes,' Harry said a little louder. 'I would like it if you adopted me.' He returned his gaze downwards as he muttered the last bit. He couldn't believe that one of his dearest childhood wishes was about to come true.

Sirius' face broke out into a brilliant smile. 'That's great, Harry! I'll speak to Gringotts and arrange an appointment.'

'Does, does that mean I can call you "dad"?' Harry asked shyly.

Choking up with emotion, Sirius moved to the boy's side. 'Only if you want to,' He put an arm around Harry's shoulders before slowly pulling him into a hug. He was gratified to notice that Harry almost immediately relaxed into the hug, bringing his own smaller arms up to reciprocate.

After a long moment, Sirius finally kissed Harry's head and pulled back. Both of them looked the other way, overwhelmed by emotion.

'Right,' Sirius said finally. 'To bed with you.'

Smiling, Harry got up and practically skipped his way towards his bedroom, bursting with happiness enough to create twenty Patronuses.

However, it was only a matter of time for things to take a turn for the worse.

It was the night before the adoption ritual, and Sirius had difficulty sleeping. It was one of those nights where the nightmares got to be too much.

He was on his way downstairs when he heard Harry yelling in his sleep.

Not thinking twice, he opened the door. Harry had just woken up and was pressing his forehead against his hands. Additionally, he was also shaking.

Concerned, Sirius hurried over to the boy and sat down on the bed. 'Harry, Harry, it's alright.' He said hoarsely as he put his arm around his godson's shoulders.

'Scar ... hurts ...' was Harry's only reply.

'Let me see what I can do,' Sirius said gently as he pried Harry's hand away. He tapped his wand against the tissue.

The agony faded to a dull ache. Harry almost cried with relief. His trembling gradually ceased as Sirius stroked his hair soothingly.

'What were you dreaming?' he finally asked.

Harry spilled out his dream in bits and pieces. Basically, he'd seen Peter and another man he didn't know and heard one person he was well-acquainted with. Lord Voldemort's high, cold voice still gave Harry chills. The evil wizard had been talking to Peter. They'd been plotting – something... and the other man had overheard them. Voldemort had commanded his Death Eater to kill the man. The thump of a body hitting the floor echoed in Harry's ears.

'So, Peter's found Voldemort,' Sirius finally said. This was troubling news.

'Yeah,' Harry finally said after a few long moments. Feeling uncomfortable (and a trifle embarrassed) Harry pulled away. 'Sorry for being such a swot,' he muttered, trying not to blush. 'Didn't mean to wake you...'

'Hey,' Sirius clapped his shoulder. 'Don't ever be sorry for waking me or coming to me,' his godfather said firmly. 'Any time, day or night, rain or shine, I will drop the world for you.'

Not knowing what to say, Harry nodded jerkily. Smiling softly, Sirius hugged him one more time before pulling away.

'Now why don't you try and get some sleep? We are going to have a big day tomorrow.'

As Harry lay back down, he noticed that Sirius did not move from his perch on the side of the bed. Hesitantly, he began stroking Harry's hair. As sleep overcame him, Harry couldn't help but think that this was really nice.

Sirius did not mention the dream the next day. Although he was worried, he kept a calm façade in front of Harry. He was not happy to know that Voldemort had managed to get some help. This really was bad.

* * *

><p>The adoption ritual happened without much fanfare. The only difficult bit was where Harry was required to disrobe in front of his godfather. Doing his best to put him at ease, Sirius played his part professionally, drawing the appropriate runes on Harry's body, using a mixture of his blood and the blood of his ancestors. He remembered there being a bottle containing the second item in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place, and so used it to strengthen the ritual. The books in the library claimed that this would be a better way as it would fully integrate the adoptee into the family line.<p>

Sirius decided not to go through the step of making Harry drink the blood, as that would fully replace the Potter bloodline (or Lily's genes at the very least) with his. He wanted Harry to still be able to call himself a son of James and Lily's.

Carrying the sleeping form of his now adopted son, Sirius couldn't help a victorious grin grace his face. Now Harry was safely in his custody. There was nothing Dumbledore could do to take the boy away from him. The documents had all been signed and ratified and the Potter and Black fortunes and investments (though physically in separate vaults) and hereditary seats had been combined. Harry was as much a Black as he was a Potter, both by blood as well as by law. He wondered how long it would take for the old man to see the two heir rings on Harry's fingers. Dumbledore was out of the country attending the annual meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards, so Sirius doubted that he would be able to see the papers legalising the adoption and Harry's change in name to Harry James Alphard Potter-Black.

Gently depositing the unconscious boy onto his bed, Sirius studied the features of his adopted son. Was it his imagination, or were the cheekbones rising up?

Mentally shaking himself, Sirius retired to his rooms. The ritual was tiring for him as well.

* * *

><p>The cleaning of the house continued. Before they knew it, all of the bedrooms (except Sirius' old mother's room), the bathrooms, the library, and the kitchen were in a better shape. The peeling wallpaper was replaced by a fresh one that made the house less dreary. The floor was no longer filthy but gleamed and the kitchen was now a much more pleasant place to be in. All in all, the house was almost restored to its former splendour. Even the scowling and soundlessly yelling portrait of Walburga Black could not detract from how much better the house now looked. In Sirius' opinion, silencing the portrait was the best thing about being the head of the Black family. Now all he had to do was put up a notice-me-not ward around the portrait.<p>

All that was now left was the formal dining room and the drawing room.

Harry stood at the entrance to the still dirty drawing room, sizing it up. He could see the splendour of the room shining through all the grime. All it needed was some thorough cleaning.

He took a step into the room. He knew he wasn't supposed to be here, not without Sirius knowing about it, and especially not if Sirius was not in the house. But he was _bored_!

Sirius had gone out for some meeting or the other, leaving Harry in the house with strict instructions _not _to go wandering into the rooms that they had not cleared out yet. And that currently included this one room.

Initially Harry had amused himself by reading a few wizarding comics while listening to some music (it turned out that the wizards did have some decent bands and music which wasn't that wailing witch Mrs Weasley loved to listen to).

However, there is only so much time one can take reading fifteen pages. Soon enough, he was staring at the ceiling of his room blankly. Eventually he had become so bored that he had opened his arithmancy book.

That held his attention for a grand total of five minutes before he cast that aside. Sighing, Harry got out of his bed to go exploring. Hopefully something would catch his fancy.

And that lead him to where he was currently standing. Feeling adventurous, and slightly defiant (Sirius implying that he was a child still rankled) Harry slowly stepped inside the long, high-ceilinged room, looking at the dirty tapestries that covered the olive-green walls in fascination. He told himself that he would be long gone from there by the time Sirius returned. Harry's foray into restricted territory would not be known of. A particular old worn tapestry at the far end caught Harry's eye. He was careful to keep his steps light, sending up little clouds of dust from the carpet every time he stepped forwards. He did not want to disturb whatever was behind the long, moss-green velvet curtains.

Stepping up towards the tapestry, he squinted up at the writing. His power was beginning to act up lately, making reading through his glasses harder and harder, although he could still see through them, in a fashion. Mentally making a note to tell his father (the word still sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine) about it, Harry removed his glasses and held them up towards the writing, using them as a magnifying glass.

The tapestry was a huge family tree showcasing the history of his adoptive father's family. As far as Harry could tell, they went all the way back to the middle ages. Quickly losing interest over seeing names way before his time, Harry looked down at the bottom, searching for Sirius' name.

He couldn't find it, although he suspected that it was the round circular burn that was there right next to Regulus Black's name. Harry briefly wondered about Regulus' (or was it "Uncle Regulus"?) history. Deciding to ask Sirius later on, he scanned the other names. He might as well see who he was now related to.

Suddenly, he drew back sharply, feeling a mixture of surprise and mild disgust. He was related to the Malfoys? As in _Draco Malfoy_?

Shuddering, he moved away from the tapestry. Turning around, he gave a start. While he was preoccupied with the family tree, Kreacher had sidled into the room and was currently in front of a glass fronted cabinet, reaching his hand out towards something.

'What's that, Kreacher?' Harry asked curiously. He did not know what to make of the old elf. His brief acquaintance with Dobby initially had him thinking that house-elves were a nice, generally cheerful, lot: if a bit weird. So he really was not prepared for the hostile stares that he kept getting from this one. Thankfully he had not seen the elf much, as his father had banished him to the master suite.

The elf gave a pronounced start of surprise as he turned around to look at Harry. 'Young master,' he said with a ridiculously low bow.

'Erm, right,' Harry said, unsettled as always by the malevolent look the elf was giving him. Unable to contain his curiosity, he repeated his question, 'What is that, Kreacher?'

'Nothing, young master, it is just a trinket.'

Something in the old elf's tone did not sit well with Harry. Looking at the object up close, he identified it as a golden locket.

Reaching out an arm, he made to pick the object up. As he brought it towards him, a small voice in his mind reminded him that Sirius had told him not to touch anything without getting his say-so. But Harry ignored it. After all, it was only a locket. He had conveniently forgotten at this point about the diary in his second year.

The locket was a heavy golden oval. The front had emeralds set in an intricate "S" that looked serpentine. Seeing a hinge, Harry tried opening the locket. It stayed stubbornly shut. Frowning, he looked at the front of the locket again, studying the design. It looked familiar...

Harry was looking at the locket so intently that he did not see the expression of desperation on the elf's face. He also failed to hear the front door opening and closing.

Suddenly the design seemed to morph into a snake and he remembered where he had seen it before. It was in the Chamber of Secrets! Going on a hunch, he said 'Open,' his voice coming out in a hiss. He wondered what he would find inside the locket.

'Harry, what the hell are you doing there?'

Looking up, Harry had only a moment to see Sirius' angry face before his vision turned dark as his scar erupted in pain.

The soul fragment of Voldemort inside Harry's scar was slowly dying. Ever since the adoption ritual, the protection around the boy had been supplemented by the unconditional love Sirius had for Harry. The end result of this was that the fragment was cut off from the magical core of its host, which it had been surviving on. Instead, its power was now being slowly leeched out and absorbed by the body it was residing in. It wouldn't be long before it died.

Suddenly it could feel another portion of its soul close by, much stronger in magic. The soul fragment did not think but reached out to its other half. Once united, it launched a desperate attack, hoping to do something that it had been trying for a long while. Take over and get a new body.

* * *

><p>Sirius opened the front door of the house tiredly. He had spent the whole morning talking to Fudge and other bureaucrats. The exercise was tiring, but he did have some small consolation. The good minister had offered him tickets to the World Cup finals, and that too in the Minister's box! The sweetest bit was that those seats were originally Barty Crouch's.<p>

Smiling, Sirius went upstairs to seek out his son (thinking of Harry as his son had come almost naturally to him) eager to share the good news. What was more, there was another free seat, and he thought that Harry could invite a friend of his along.

He really did not know what to make of the boy. At first, Harry had been quite compliant, listening to everything Sirius had said and doing what was asked of him without any complaint. But recently, he noticed that Harry had become a bit less obedient. Sirius did not mind the cheek or the backtalk (even though it was getting more and more annoying). But what he really did not like was that on three different occasions, he had caught Harry inside a room that wasn't cleaned out without Sirius' say-so. So far, Sirius had let it go (Harry had seemed apologetic) but he couldn't help but feel that things would come to a head. As much as he loved the kid, at this point he really wanted to throttle him.

Reaching the landing of the first floor, Sirius suddenly paused when he saw the door leading to the drawing room ajar. Striding towards it, he reached for the door, with a futile hope that he did not see what he thought he was going to see.

His suspicions were immediately confirmed before he even touched the serpentine knob when he heard Harry's voice. Although he could no decipher what he had said, Sirius recognised his son's voice anywhere. Opening the door, Sirius furiously strode in. This had gone far enough.

'Harry, what the hell are you doing in there?'

Harry looked at Sirius for a scant moment when suddenly a black smoke erupted from an object held in his cupped hands. Before Sirius could even react, the smoke sank into Harry's forehead.

The effects were immediate. Dropping the thing he was holding (which Sirius recognised as a locket) Harry crashed to the ground, screaming in pain as he clutched his scar.

'Shit!' Sirius said rushing over to the fallen boy. Frantically he brought the teenager's head towards him. By this time, Harry had stopped screaming, although his eyes were closed, rapidly moving underneath his eyelids. Sweat had started to bead up on his forehead as well.

'Harry, Harry, wake up, come on now,' Sirius lightly slapped the boy. Getting no response, he drew his wand.

Harry's eyes shot open at this moment. Sirius' breath of relief was caught in his throat when he saw his son's eyes.

The boy's eyes were green, but there was something distinctly off about them. It was at this instant that Sirius suspected that Harry was being possessed.

Cautiously Sirius looked into the boy's eyes. 'Harry, it's me, Sirius, you have to fight it off. Come on son, I know you can do it.'

Harry's face muscles started twitching madly, as if he was trying to say something or make an expression. One half of his mouth started jerking, as if to smile.

Convinced now that the boy was being possessed, Sirius redoubled his efforts. 'Come back to me kid, fight it! Come on!' he frantically thought of a spell he could use, coming blank each time. 'Come on Harry! Don't give up! I love you too much to lose you now!' Hearing the wetness in his voice, Sirius realised that tears were running down his face.

Suddenly he saw a spark of recognition in the blank green eyes. Harry's face began to twist in a rictus of pain as he suddenly started screaming. Unexpectedly the boy's back arched and the screaming morphed into a shrieking that now came from the black smoke being ejected out of Harry's scar. Still shrieking, the amorphous cloud raced to the open locket which closed immediately.

The ringing silence was soon broken when Harry moaned and turned to his side, promptly throwing up. Shivering, he lay back in his father's arms, his scar bleeding.

Immediately, Sirius waved his wand over the wound, sealing it. As the skin repaired itself, he noted absently that the scar looked different somehow. It no longer looked as prominent as it had done before.

Half carrying him, Sirius got Harry up to his bedroom where he told the teen to rest for a while. As he got downstairs, his ire increased. He knew just how Harry ended up possessing that locket. He definitely had not missed Kreacher's presence. That elf had tried to hurt his son. It had gone too far.

'KREACHER!' Sirius shouted as soon as he caught sight of the elf. The hateful creature had not moved from the room. Sirius grew even angrier when he saw the elf about to pick up the locket. No doubt to try and erase traces of its deeds.

'You dare –' Sirius could not complete his sentence, he was too angry to articulate his rage verbally. 'That was my son, you vile blight on ... thing!' he gave an inarticulate roar, advancing on the elf, his fingers flexing convulsively

'The boy is –'

'ENOUGH!' snarled Sirius as he loomed over the elf. Dimly, he felt satisfaction on seeing fear on the elf's face. It was an emotion he had never seen on the creature's face before when it had looked at him. To see it now gave him a feeling of power.

'Harry is _my_ son! He wears the heir ring, as I wear the family ring!' He brandished the latter item in the elf's face. 'You dare endanger him? You dare try to kill him? I have tolerated your presence so far, elf! You don't do _any _work as it is! And now you try this!'

'Master –' the elf sounded desperate. It was the last word he ever got to say as a bright light came at him.

Sirius took deep breaths, standing over the elf's headless body. There were flecks of blood and brain matter all over the place and on him. Taking a few more deep breaths, he started to calm down. Suddenly he barked out a laugh. Killing that vile thing really felt good. He should have done this long back ago.

Suddenly he felt lighter. He had not realised how heavy a burden Kreacher was. The elf had affected him more than he was willing to admit. Vanishing the body, blood and gore with a few spells, Sirius picked up the locket. He could feel the malevolent energy coming from it. Grimly, he put it in a bag and headed upstairs. Even though he did not reside in the master bedroom, he had claimed the study for himself.

'Sirius?'

Sirius stopped. His foot was on the first step up towards his destination. Turning around, he saw Harry looking at him from the doorway of his room. Immediately his mood plummeted. Kreacher may have been responsible for Harry coming into possession of the cursed item he was holding, but at the same time, Harry was also responsible for his own actions.

'Harry? Shouldn't you be resting?' he said with a frown.

The boy shrugged, leaning against the door. He put his hands in his pockets. ''m fine,' he mumbled. 'Just got a bit of a headache is all.'

Sirius looked at the boy for a moment. 'Why don't you go and have a lie in?'

'No it's fine,'

'No it's not. Go on, rest your head.'

'But I'm not sleepy.'

Sirius took a deep breath counting up to ten. 'Lie down anyway. I'll come back in a few moments with a headache cure.'

Somehow the boy understood that Sirius was not in a happy mood. 'OK,' Harry turned around and shuffled into his room.

Depositing the locket into a drawer, he sank into the chair behind the desk. While the incident was Kreacher's fault, Harry wasn't exactly blameless. Sirius had warned the boy, many times, not to touch objects or go to places in the house without his permission. Yet Harry had done so. His repeated warnings despite having caught him in the past had seemingly fallen on deaf ears.

So the question remained: what should he do now that his son had blatantly disobeyed him for the fourth time.

The answer was quite obvious as it had been ever since the first time he had caught Harry in the trophy room alone before it had been cleaned. Harry needed to be punished.

Just as before, Sirius felt sick. Flashes of his childhood passed by his mind. More specifically, instances where he had screwed up. He did not relish taking the role of disciplinarian, of doing to his son what Mr Potter had done to both him and James whenever they had landed in trouble.

His parents did not count. Their responses to the smallest of mistakes had been extreme. Sirius could not count the number of times he had been hexed or cursed (sometimes both) at the hands of Orion and Walburga Black.

Not for the first time he cursed fate. Why did James have to die? If he was still alive, then Sirius would have had the easier job of being the fun uncle who consoled Harry after he was punished.

Well, there was nothing to it. For better or for worse, he was now Harry's father. It was his job to discipline the boy. Besides, he had let this go on for long enough. He cannot let this slide. Not this time. Taking a deep breath, he got up and headed toward Harry's room.

Knocking, he opened the door, stepping inside the space for the first time since it had been occupied.

As soon as he entered, he realised that he should have made it a point to come earlier. The last time, intent on comforting a panicked Harry, he had not noticed anything. Now however...

'This room's a mess!' And so it was. Clothes, books and other random objects were lying all over the place. The air was also thick with that typical scent associated with teenage boys.

'Ah, sorry about that,' Harry said, blushing furiously. Sirius looked at the boy as he started darting around picking things up randomly, his cheeks still stained red.

'Here, allow me,' Sirius waved his wand. Immediately clothes floated up and deposited themselves in a somewhat neat pile in front of the closet. Another wave had the rest of the items forming another pile, while a third and final wave gave the room a fresh smell.

Harry stood in the middle of the room, gobsmacked. 'I didn't think about that,' he finally said.

'Well, now you know,' Sirius replied. 'I want those piles sorted out later, mind.' Saying so, he dragged the desk chair to the bed and sat down.

'So, how are you feeling?'

Harry just shrugged in reply.

'Oh, that way, huh?' Sirius replied with a tad amount of sarcasm. 'Well, this should help matters.' He produced a phial of potion. 'For your headache,' he said a bit unnecessarily.

Under his eagle eye, Harry reluctantly downed the contents, grimacing a bit. Sirius' lips twitched a bit as the boy sighed in relief, plopping down on the bed opposite Sirius and folding his legs.

'Good, now that's out of the way, care to tell me what happened there with the locket?' Sirius made sure to keep his voice neutral.

Hesitantly at first, but slowly gaining momentum, Harry recounted his misadventure, culminating with the encounter with the locket.

'So you don't really remember what happened when that mist entered your head?' Sirius asked finally.

Harry nodded. As soon as the mysterious mist had entered, all he remembered was a lot of pain, malice and hatred as the world around him slipped in and out of focus. Just as he thought that he was about to drown in it all, he managed to catch a glimpse of Sirius. He held onto that image, and soon enough he felt the foreign presence being driven away.

'Very well,' Sirius said. Now for the hard part. 'So, care to tell me what you were doing with that locket in the first place?'

Harry gulped at the sharp look being sent his way. Looking at the bedspread, he mumbled something.

Sirius sighed. 'Did I, or did I not tell you beforehand, many times over, not to go around handling strange objects you had not seen before _especially _if they were lying around in the house without me being present? Look at me while I am talking to you, young man, and for Merlin's sake, speak clearly,' the words came out sharper than he meant it, but Sirius was getting a bit annoyed at the mumbling. With the amount of worry he had caused, you'd think the boy would have the courtesy to articulate.

Green eyes reluctantly met grey. 'Yes,' Harry replied in a small voice. Sirius really seemed cross now. Harry was worried that he had pushed the man too far. He knew that he had been somewhat of a prat, but he couldn't help himself. Something in him wanted to push Sirius' buttons.

Nodding, Sirius continued. 'And did I not tell you, with the same frequency, not to roam around in areas of the house that had not yet been cleaned without me nearby?'

Feeling really small, Harry barely managed to say another, 'yes.'

'So pray tell me why you decided to do something so idiotic.'

Sirius waited for a long moment for an answer, when none was forthcoming, he prompted Harry, 'Well? I'm waiting for an answer.'

'I was bored.' Harry flushed again. He did not mean to say those words out loud. Warily he looked up.

Sirius closed his eyes, trying to contain the surge of anger he felt. The boy had actually risked his life, and deliberately disobeyed because he was _bored_?

'You were _bored_?' he gave voice to his thoughts, his eyes narrowed and his tone deadly.

Harry flinched. 'Sorry,' he said meekly.

Sirius gave him a stern look before continuing. 'I had placed two rules, just two rules. And you had to break both of them at the same time.'

'It was an accident.'

'"An accident"?' Sirius nearly scoffed. 'What, did the locket slip and fall into your hand?' He gave his son a withering look. 'Oh, I know, you tripped and landed so hard that you ended up in the _middle of the room you weren't supposed to be in_! And miraculously, that happened for the fourth time!'

Harry blushed again. Sirius had not shouted, but the biting sarcasm was far worse.

'Right,' Sirius said with an air of wrapping up the discussion. 'I told you that you won't like the consequences when you broke these rules. Before I kept quiet and said nothing. But now, I think it's high time that I keep my promise.' He took a deep breath and said in a voice that did not invite any argument. 'Stand up and come here.'

Harry's momentary look of confusion was soon banished. His eyes widened as he noticed the wooden ruler that appeared in Sirius' hand. 'What are you going to do with that?' he asked fearfully, already knowing the answer but not willing to think about it.

'What do you think?' Sirius asked levelly.

'No,' Harry said loudly. 'No, you can't do that.'

Sirius' voice was calm, but Harry could tell that he was starting to become impatient, 'And why not?'

'I'm too old,'

'Are you?' Sirius asked with fake surprise.

'Yes,' Harry completely missed the mild sarcasm in his father's tone. 'I'm fourteen now. I'm too old for … that.'

Sirius hummed, looking thoughtful. 'You know what, you are right.'

'I am?' Harry was completely taken aback by the sudden change in Sirius' demeanour.

'Of course! When I was your age, your grandfather thought that James and I were too old as well.' Sirius said pleasantly. 'In fact,' he said reminiscently, 'I can still remember him banishing the ruler back to his study when we said the very same thing to him.' Saying so, he waved his wand.

But the ruler did not vanish. Harry's eyes widened even further when it morphed into –.

'And he summoned this.' Sirius held up the rattan cane he had transfigured the ruler into, giving it a few swishes. The instrument whistled as it sliced through the air.

'Well, James and I didn't care much for this more "grown up" alternative, even if the punishment took lesser time to get over.' Sirius said conversationally. 'But then we had no choice. However, unlike me, you have the luxury of a choice. I just guess I am an old softy compared to your grandfather. After all, he would have already taken that ruler to your arse the first time you stepped out of line, not to mention he would have used it on you the minute the first smart-arse comment came out of your mouth. Anyway, I think you'd prefer to go back to the ruler, no?'

Harry nodded numbly. Sirius paused at the look in the teenager's eyes. Sighing softly, he said gently. 'Come here, Harry. Don't worry,' he said quickly, banishing the cane and holding his empty hands up. 'I'm not about to do anything,' _yet_ he added mentally. 'Just come here.'

Hesitantly, Harry made his way towards Sirius, half expecting to be turned over his father's knee. Instead he was quite surprised when Sirius pulled him down and sat him on his lap.

Harry was initially stiff, but melted into Sirius' embrace soon enough, resting his head on Sirius' shoulder. He did not know what to make of this. On one hand, he felt like a five year old, sitting on Sirius' lap. But on the other hand, this was a unique feeling, one he had not experienced before. And he liked it.

'Hey, why are you so upset?' Sirius said softly. He had noticed the rather distressed look on the boy's face. 'I know that the prospect of being punished isn't something you'd look forward to, but there really isn't any need to act as if I am about to slowly kill you. Haven't you been spanked before?'

Slowly, Harry shook his head. 'No … they never did … that. Every time they felt that I had done something bad, I would be grounded for a period of time.'

Sirius knew that Harry was making the understatement of the century when talking about those Muggles but he let it go for now. He was happy that he had appeared on time to take Harry away from there before Vernon started to physically abuse him. While he had gleaned much from their minds, he did not have the full story.

He would also have to get Harry to open up about his life there. From talking to the mind healer he had started visiting on Andromeda's insistence ever since he was exonerated, Sirius felt it would be a good idea. If unloading the emotional burden of the betrayals was quite cleansing for Sirius, it should help Harry quite a lot as well.

'Yes, I have heard about that,' One of his Muggleborn dorm mates had mentioned that once when he was in school. It had sounded like quite a novel idea at the time to the purebloods. It was still a strange concept for Sirius.

It suddenly hit Sirius that this was the first time that he would be disciplining Harry. They had never discussed punishments before. Well, no time like the present.

'Personally I don't really think much about such a punishment, but if you are more comfortable, we can go down that route. However, I doubt you would want to be restricted to your room, especially now.'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked, lifting his head.

'Well,' Sirius said casually. 'I managed to get three tickets to the Quidditch World Cup Finals. That too in the Minister's box.'

'What, really?' Harry said excitedly, momentarily forgetting about the trouble he was in.

'Yes,' Sirius couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm. 'The Weasleys managed to get tickets to the Minister's box as well. They invited Hermione along, so you can ask one of your other friends.'

'That's brilliant!' Harry said excitedly. But the smile slid off his face as he realised that being put on restriction would effectively mean that he would not be allowed to go to the match which was two days away.

Harry gave Sirius a forlorn look. 'I don't suppose you could just give me some extra chores to do in the house instead?'

'Extra chores?' Sirius replied incredulously. 'With the state the house is in currently, you are doing enough work as it is. There is no way that I could possibly give you anything _more_ to do! Besides, after they are done with the other house, we'll have house-elves. They certainly won't take kindly to any one of us doing their work!'

'Oh,' Harry considered that. 'You have a point.'

Watching the boy ponder, Sirius was impressed that Harry hadn't asked to be let off the hook entirely. There were so many times that he and James had done that, not that it had worked. This level of maturity was unexpected.

Harry considered his options. Eventually he sighed and looked up. 'I really want to see the match.'

'Then you know what your choice has to be.'

Harry nodded resignedly. 'I don't suppose there is any other option?' he asked somewhat hopefully.

'I am open to suggestions.'

There was a long silence. Harry rested his head against Sirius' shoulder, thinking.

'Um, lines?'

Sirius snorted, 'Lines? What good's that to anyone?'

'That's what Hagrid said once in my first year,' Harry said with a humourless snort.

There was silence for a few moments. Finally, Harry sighed again, straightening up. 'Fine, I guess we'll go with the ...' he trailed off.

'Spanking?' Sirius completed the sentence, saying the word Harry was unable to.

Blushing, Harry nodded, feeling a little sick to his stomach. 'So, um, what do you want me to do?'

Sirius unknowingly echoed his son's feelings. 'Right,' he said. 'Stand up.'

Once the fourteen year old was standing in front of him, Sirius unbuckled, unsnapped and unzipped Harry's jeans with numb fingers, pushing them down. After split second's hesitation, his son's pants were also lowered. Not wasting any time, he pulled the boy over

Harry was almost grateful when he was guided over his father's lap so quickly. He thought he would have died in mortification if he was standing there like that for any longer. Not that the position he was currently in felt any better. He could feel the cool air on his bare posterior as Sirius pushed his t-shirt up his back.

Charles Potter had mentioned once that he did not relish this particular aspect of being a father, and Sirius had not believed him then. Now, as he looked at the pale bottom situated on his lap as he pushed up the boy's shirt out of the way he understood what the man had been trying to tell him and James. He felt sick at the prospect of being the cause of Harry's pain. But then he remembered what his son had done to end up in this position. He nearly had got himself killed. And this probably would have happened earlier if Sirius hadn't caught him in time.

Hardening his heart, Sirius raised his hand.

Sirius was at first hesitant, but as he gained confidence, the tempo slowly increased. Soon enough, Harry was squirming as the sting built up, his sock clad feet drumming against the floor.

After what probably felt like an eternity to Harry, Sirius finally stopped. Resting his stinging hand, he examined his handiwork. The once lily white behind was now dark pink. Looking down towards Harry's head, he saw shaking shoulders and heard hitched breathing.

Sirius almost stopped there and then. But he steeled himself again. He had made a promise himself to follow Charles' method, and follow it he shall. Harry had knowingly broken a rule four times now. And to add to that, he had broken the second important rule that had been placed for his safety. That was two rules at one time. The consequences needed to reflect the severity of his breeches. Charles Potter would not have stopped at a hand spanking.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius picked up his wand and silently summoned the wooden ruler.

Harry suddenly stiffened when Sirius tapped the ruler on his backside.

'Twenty strokes, Harry.'

Gritting his teeth, Harry nodded, bracing himself. He grabbed a fistful of his father's trousers; his other hand was trapped by his side, held securely in place by Sirius when he had reached back.

Sirius lifted the wooden instrument.

Harry started yelping by the fifth stroke. His yelps were then supplemented by apologies, entreaties to stop and vigorous kicking by the tenth stroke. And, by the fifteenth stroke, he was weeping brokenly. Gritting his teeth, Sirius lifted his knee and landed the last five smacks in quick succession right on the area where buttock met thigh. Once he was done, he threw the ruler to the side.

Gently rubbing circles on the boy's back, Sirius made soothing noises. As much as Harry deserved it, Sirius could not help but wince in sympathy at the now bright red posterior. Slowly, he helped his crying son up and spreading his legs, gently set him down. Tentatively, he put his arms around Harry's shaking shoulders.

Harry quickly threw his arms around his father, clinging onto Sirius for dear life as he tearfully apologised over and over again. Eventually he tired himself out, falling asleep in Sirius' arms.

Decidedly feeling wretched, Sirius picked Harry up with a grunt and gently laid the sleeping form on the bed, covering him with the blankets. Swinging his aching shoulders and stretching his back muscles, he walked across the room to pick up the jeans and boxer-briefs that had been kicked across the room. Placing them on the end of the bed, Sirius ruminated that Harry had really started gaining weight. Those nutrient potions had paid off.

Harry woke up just in time for dinner. He was initially quiet as he shuffled into the kitchen, but after another reassuring hug from Sirius, he regained his good humour. Deciding that a change was in order, Sirius took him out for dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene V<strong>

* * *

><p>A few days later saw father and son sitting at the kitchen, a few hours before dawn, trying to wake themselves up.<p>

'Why are we up so early?'

Disgruntled, Sirius looked at the rumpled form of his son. 'Because you wanted to meet your friends as soon as possible, and you wanted to set up camp as well, because it would be "_fun_" in your words.' he said wryly. 'I do recall that you were quite insistent when you got Ron's letter. One would even call it "enthusiastic". Where's the passion now?'

Harry just gave Sirius a dirty look. 'Still in bed,' he deadpanned. 'I tried waking it up, but it wouldn't budge.' With a _thump_, Harry dropped his head on the table.

Sirius chuckled. Harry had started developing quite a sarcastic streak. He supposed he was to blame. After all, he had been teasing the boy whenever possible. Some would call it childish, but Sirius had a reason for doing it. It would help Harry develop a defence against irritating school rivals. Of course, at times the cheek would get to be a bit much, especially when the two of them were out on social functions. But a pointed glance, a mild tap or a whispered warning was enough to get the boy to back off before he made a complete embarrassment of himself.

Harry had properly woken up by the time they had picked up Neville. They had reached the campsite shortly after. Sirius was quite amused at the awe displayed when Harry found out about the interior furnishings. Mentally he made a note to take the boy out hunting or camping. He fondly recalled the many excursions James' father had taken them.

The Quidditch match was very exciting. Sirius was still happy at the fact that he had managed to take seats reserved for Barty Crouch. Making a big deal about Crouch abusing his privileges by getting a seat for his elf as well as himself was quite enough to get the uptight wizard to back down. As it is, his reputation had taken a major hit thanks to the scandal that surrounded Sirius Black's lack of trial. It won't be long before Crouch was out of a job. Maybe if Sirius was lucky, Crouch himself will end up in prison.

Although he was restrained, Sirius was sporting a huge grin on his face by the end of the match. The last time he had seen a professional match, he had been sixteen.

The events following the match hadn't been so good. Sirius, Harry and Neville had gone over to visit the Weasleys once the match was over. The kids were soon out, being exhausted from the events of the day. Sirius was talking with Arthur and his grown sons, Bill, Charlie and Percy (who Sirius didn't like much because of his near devotional worship of Bartemius Crouch) when they heard the screams.

The rest of the world might think that a bunch of drunken hooligans had managed to get their hands on Death Eater garb and had decided to play dress-up, but Sirius knew that it was Malfoy and his friends. Even when he was terrorising people, the blond still had a disturbingly feminine pose. Sirius had spent the days following Narcissa's marriage speculating if his older cousin was ever going to get some action. He would have to ask the elves if Draco Malfoy was really Lucius Malfoy's biological son.

The most interesting bit was Crouch and his elf. Sirius dearly wished that the Blacks had managed to get one of their elves in the Crouch household. Perhaps now that Crouch had fired his elf for being in the possession of Crouch's wand, which, incidentally, was found to have cast the Dark Mark, there could be an opening?

Not that he needed to try much. This was just more dirt to sully Crouch's already soiled reputation. At this rate, he would not even have to do anything but sit back and watch as Crouch self-destructed.

'You alright?' he asked Harry as they made their way back to the camp.

'Yeah, they didn't even manage to hit us. We ducked just in time.'

'Good.' The rest of their journey back to their tents was spent in silence. That is if one did not count Hermione's long winded rant about house-elf rights which soon enough devolved into an argument between both of Harry's best friends.

'Don't worry,' Harry said with a long suffering sigh upon noticing the way Sirius was looking at the two. 'They do this quite regularly.'

'Right,' Sirius said slowly. He knew that the Weasley boy was right, but he doubted that the Muggleborn witch was ever going to be convinced. She had the look about her face that suggested that she would not be convinced easily once she made her mind up. Sirius shrugged. One day she would have the truth shoved into her face.

* * *

><p>The next day, Sirius took Harry, his two friends, Neville and the Tonks family to Black Island as planned. Ever since the incident with the locket, Sirius had reassigned some of the elves working on the French home to the island. He wanted Harry out of Grimmauld Place as soon as possible. Besides, the island was a nice place to be in. Located off the coast of Cornwall, it was an ideal spot to go holidaying to celebrate Harry being taken off the potions. Neville was invited along by Harry at a suggestion from Sirius. He knew of the history the Longbottoms and Potters shared, and wanted to foster that in the current generation. He had also met Frank and had liked the quiet older man. Ever since finding out about the Frank's fate, Sirius somehow felt responsible for what had happened to Neville's parents.<p>

Having never seen a beach or the ocean before (the short time spent in that miserable hut on the rock did not count) Harry was quite excited. They stayed in a modest sized four bedroom cottage. With the ruins of Black castle in the background (which Sirius cleared for exploring as there hadn't been traces of malicious magic for centuries) the maze of secret passages dotting the island, and the beach itself, Harry felt like he was in one of those adventures he had read about in Muggle School.

Now if he only had a mongrel dog (Tonks fit the role of the tomboy – not that he would tell her that to her face) the experience would be more complete.

* * *

><p><strong>Act II Scene VI<strong>

* * *

><p>A week later, Sirius was standing in front of the Hogwarts express. He had found Harry a compartment and stowed his luggage. Now all that remained was to send his son off.<p>

Tearing his gaze away from the scarlet locomotive, he looked at his son. Five days of roaming around out in the open just wearing swimming trunks had put quite a healthy shade on Harry's otherwise pale skin. Thanks to another potion, the boy's wonky eyesight had been repaired, making his eyes stand out.

'Well, have fun,' Sirius said gruffly, grabbing the back of Harry's neck. 'Take care of yourself now.' He gave the boy a half hug. Pulling away, he looked at the boy seriously. 'And for the love of Merlin, don't get into so much trouble that I have to come to the school,' he winked.

Harry grunted. The previous years he had jealously looked on as families sent his classmates off. Now, he had a family of his own ready and willing to send him off. Smiling shyly, he hugged Sirius, quickly putting both his arms around his father, completely surprising the former prisoner. With a quick 'Bye,' Harry set off towards his compartment.

The train ride was quite run-of-the-mill. It even included the yearly visit from Malfoy.

'Hey, cuz!' Harry said cheerfully the minute the blond showed his ugly mug. He had been dying to use this line on Malfoy ever since he had learnt of their relationship. He hadn't been able to do so during the World Cup. It wasn't the right moment then, according to Sirius who had prevented him from saying anything by subtly touching his elbow.

Other than giving him a funny look, Malfoy ignored Harry as he concentrated on Ron.

'So … going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know … you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won. …'

'What are you talking about?' snapped Ron.

'Are you going to enter?' Malfoy repeated. 'I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?'

'Oh, noticed me now, have you?' Harry said in mock hurt. 'As to your question, one; no, I want to have a nice quiet year, and two; it's "Potter-Black".'

'What are you talking about?' snapped Malfoy, eerily sounding just like Ron a few moments back.

'What, don't you know?' Harry said with a sneer to rival Malfoy's. 'I have been magically blood-adopted by Sirius Black. Here, see?' He showed Malfoy the Potter and Black rings that were on his fingers. 'And in case you are ignorant about this, it means the following; I am his heir, my name is now Harry James Alphard Potter-Black, and last but not the least, we are cousins.'

'You are the Black heir?' Malfoy said in horrified disbelief.

Harry was enjoying the look on Malfoy's face. 'Yup, and the Potter heir too,' he said brightly.

The four Gryffindors sat there for a few moments, highly amused at the gobsmacked expression on the git's face. Finally Ron stood up and chivvied Malfoy out, shutting the door firmly on the three Slytherins.

'That was brilliant, mate.' Ron said with a beaming smile.

'What was Malfoy talking about, Harry,' Hermione asked curiously.

Her question had the other boys looking at Harry inquisitively.

'Sirius told me about it last night,' Harry replied. He briefly explained about the Triwizard Tournament that was coming to Hogwarts.

'Brilliant,' said Hermione. 'We'll get to interact with foreign schools! Think about the things we will learn!'

Ron was inclined to be disgruntled, 'So that's what they've been hiding from us all this time. Percy has been a right insufferable git because of this.' Crossing his arms a tad petulantly, he stared out of the window as he muttered angrily to himself.

'You've changed Harry,' Hermione finally voiced an observation that the others had made.

'Yeah, you seem more cheerful,' Neville interjected.

'And what's up with that Malfoy-ish sneer?' Ron demanded.

Harry shrugged. 'I dunno,' he ran a hand through his hair. 'I've been feeling quite free lately ... as if a great weight I didn't know I had has been lifted off me.' Addressing Ron, he continued, impersonating Percy's pompous tones. 'And I will have you know, Weasley, that it is not I who sneers like a Malfoy, but Malfoy who sneers like a Black.'

His declaration was a repeat of Sirius' lecture when he had asked his father that same question. Just as it had done to him, it got the others cracking up in laughter.

'I think it's because you have Sirius in your life now,' Hermione said knowledgably returning to the subject she had brought up.

Harry nodded. 'Yeah ... I finally have a dad now ... a real family,' he said the last bit in wonder.

'Oh, Harry,' Hermione said with a smile, getting up to hug him. 'I'm so happy for you.'

'Thanks,'

'Eh, I wouldn't be so happy if I were you. I mean, you are related to Malfoy,' Ron said casually.

Harry chuckled as Hermione rounded on Ron with a severe expression on her face. He paused when he spotted Neville's face. He could have sworn that he saw a shadow pass over the quiet boy's face.

The rest of the journey was spent with the boys speculating about the Tournament and Hermione wondering aloud what Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be like.

* * *

><p>Settling down behind the desk in his study, Sirius heaved a gusty sigh. Without Harry there, Number Twelve seemed very quiet. He spent a few moments listening to the clock tick. Then, letting out another gusty sigh, he opened the drawer and levitated the locket within.<p>

Placing it on the desk, he looked at it.

'Now what secrets do you hold? ...'

The days quickly took on a routine for Sirius. Assigning the remaining cleaning to the house-elves, he would spend weekdays either looking through the Black Family library, trying to figure out what he could about the history and origins of the locket and managing his business portfolio. In the weekends, his routine was varied by visits to his mind healer (which would soon be over) in the afternoons and the occasional social function (Ministry or private) in the evenings.

So far Sirius had found out that the locket Harry was holding was not just any old heirloom but the locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin thought lost to time. After a bit of digging, Sirius found out that it was rumoured to be in the private collection of an old woman (who ironically enough was the descendant of Helga Hufflepuff). The trail had seemingly gone cold from there with the death of Hepzibah Smith. Sirius knew that a Black wasn't behind this rather suspicious death. The Smiths did not have one of their house-elf agents, and killing a woman over a locket (no matter how old said locket was) was not something the Blacks did. Besides, according to more rumours, the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff was also missing. And that artefact was in none of the Black properties. Sirius had checked twice now.

But that was another matter right now. What was most puzzling was how an artefact had managed to possess another person.

Sirius looked at the locket thoughtfully. Magical analyses of the artefact had shown nothing more than a bevy of protective enchantments layered over the thing. These looked quite recent, considering the history of the locket. Further testing was impossible as the protective enchantments interfered with the revealing spells.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair in frustration. It was impossible for an inanimate object to do something like this. For one, you needed a soul to do a possession...

Sirius paused.

A soul...

Immediately he surged towards his feet, toppling his chair. Taking quick strides, he rushed towards the library. He knew he had seen a book somewhere...

However, his investigation was soon brought to a sudden and unexpected halt thanks to a letter delivered by owl.

'Hello, boy, what do you have for me,' Sirius said pleasantly. It was quite odd for Harry to be sending a letter in the evening.

Instead of going to him, the large snowy owl wheeled around and settled down on a cabinet well out of Sirius' reach, haughtily preening itself.

'Oi, what's the big idea?' Sirius said irritably. 'Come down here!'

The owl paused long enough to give Sirius a _very_ pointed look before returning to straightening its feathers.

'Oh, for the love of –' Sirius slowly dragged his hand down his face. Sighing he gave the owl a dirty look. 'Fine, would you please give me my mail ... _Orion_' Sirius said with gritted teeth, his eye twitching at the name.

He did not know what was worse, his decision to buy a male snowy owl or have Harry name the bloody pigeon.

Harry just had to pick the first name he had seen in the first book he had picked up. And the book just _had_ to be a history of the Black Family, and the name just _had _to be his father's name.

The owl had taken a shine to the name, to Hedwig (who Sirius was bemused to learn was named similarly) and to the idiotic teenager that had named it. And the blasted bird would not respond unless called by its name. To top it all off, Number Twelve now had the dubious pleasure of hosting a family of owls.

Taking the letter and giving Orion filthy looks (which was patently ignored) Sirius opened the letter.

_Dear Dad,_

_Please don't be cross._

Reading the opening sentence caused Sirius' stomach to sink. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like the contents of the letter. With a sense of doom, he read the rest of the letter.

'Son of a –' Sometimes he hated being right.

* * *

><p>'What do you mean that its iron clad?' Sirius shouted. 'Harry could not have entered his name in that cup. Ergo, his name coming out of said cup would not constitute an obligation on his part to participate in this bloody Tournament!'<p>

'I am afraid that he has to participate, Sirius,' Dumbledore replied serenely. 'The parchment that came out of the Cup had his name written in his hand. Here, see for yourself.' He extricated a scrap of parchment from a drawer of his desk and laid it out in front of Sirius.

Sirius picked up the parchment and read the writing. It was in Harry's distinct scrawl. Absently he noted that Harry's handwriting was improving.

'And he did not need to physically put his name in,' Dumbledore continued. 'At one time in the Tournament's past, it was customary for the champions to write their names down and hand it over to their respective headmasters who would then travel to the school hosting the tournament and put the names in. That was before the enchanted modes of transport that the schools use were developed of course. And the imposed age limit did help matters too.' He added as an afterthought.

Seething, Sirius said nothing, electing to angrily stare out of the window.

'And what,' he finally bit out, 'About the fact that Harry is the fourth champion in a contest meant for three?'

'It is an unfortunate anomaly, Sirius,' Dumbledore said with a tired sigh. 'I still have to figure out how this was done, but it was quite masterfully executed. Whoever did it was quite skilled and knowledgeable. Even if I found out how this was done, there is still no changing the fact that Harry will have to participate. I am sorry Sirius, but there is nothing I can do.'

'Can't or won't?'

'I'm sorry?'

'You heard me,' Sirius said lowly. 'Is there nothing you truly can do or are you unwilling to do anything?' He gave his old headmaster a contemptuous look. 'It wouldn't the first time you just sat back on your old arse and did nothing. My lack of a trial certainly proves that.'

Dumbledore closed his eyes in regret. 'Sirius, you have no idea how much I regret my –'

'Oh shut up, you old twat.' Sirius cut in harshly. 'After all I have done for you and your stinking Order, if all you have for me are empty words, then I say take your regrets and shove it. They certainly won't bring back twelve years of my life. To top it all, you have the gall to take the money that was meant for me and put it in "charity".' Sirius sneered.

Dumbledore sighed again. 'The money went to a good cause, Sirius. I would have thought that considering what your last school friend is, you'd be happy to chip in, especially what you caused to happen.'

Sirius' countenance turned ugly. 'So you are telling me that I should have let myself and three other innocent _children_ become werewolf food? _Remus_ was the one who forgot to have his Potion, _Remus_ was the one who came down _despite _the fact that it was a full moon. So do tell me why I am the one footing the bill?'

'Severus' story was quite different from the one you tell me.' Dumbledore said mildly.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. 'Oh yeah, Snivelly's a werewolf, I completely forgot!' he said sarcastically. He took on a thoughtful expression. 'I bet you decided to take my money and give it to him since he cannot be employed anymore.' A subtle shift in Dumbledore's expression was all the proof he needed. Laughing again, he said, 'Well, I must say, that's the best million quid I've ever spent. It's a pity that you did not insist on keeping Snape on staff after I told the board of Governors about Snivy's status. It would have been fun to see the reactions of the other parents when they find out that the almighty Albus Dumbledore plans on having their children being taught Potions by a _werewolf._'

Albus closed his eyes again in pain. He wondered what Sirius would say if he told him that Remus was now wanted by the Ministry because he had bit and infected another man. Should he be caught, the sentence would be instant death at the hands of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. Macnair was already smug about killing an innocent Hippogriff, he would be unbearable if he got his hands on Remus.

Striding towards the door, Sirius called out from behind his shoulder. 'I think we are done here, Dumbledore. It really has not been a pleasure talking to you. Not that I expected anything else.' Closing the door with a smart snap, Sirius left the office.

Albus bowed his head in sorrow. All those years ago, he had thought he had done the right thing. He had truly thought that Sirius was in Voldemort's camp. That he had the Order fooled. As he had ascended up the political ranks, he had heard a lot about the infamous Black Information Network and how they seemed to have blackmail material on almost everyone in power. If Sirius was actually a spy, then it meant that Orion had not disowned him. As the heir, should he become Lord Black, Sirius would have access to that information and not only would he have been declared innocent, but he would have had custody of Harry. Albus would have been able to tolerate the former, but he could not abide by the latter. Who knew what horrors the child would be exposed to? So Albus had made the decision to send Sirius to jail without a trial.

It pained him to know that he had made such colossal mistakes. Thanks to the part he played, an innocent and good man had spent twelve years in that hellhole and Harry had grown up leading an unhappy childhood.

The dementors had not been a good thing. Sirius had become rather bitter. Albus hoped that the head of House Black found peace within himself soon. It would be disastrous if he didn't. Already Sirius had turned Harry against him by mentioning that he had tried to keep Sirius from gaining custody. But he had two solid reasons for that. One, he did not know how stable a guardian Sirius would be and two, the Blood Wards. Albus did not know what effect the adoption ritual had on that protection Lily had bestowed on Harry. He feared that Sirius had made a major mistake. He hoped that he did not make a bigger mistake than that.

* * *

><p>His robes billowing about him, Sirius set off towards the front door, fuming. He should have insisted on sending Harry off to Beauxbatons. But <em>no,<em> he just had to choose that moment to be soft and give in.

His black mood dissipated soon enough. Meeting and having a brief conversation with Slughorn, whose swift and prompt admiration of Harry's skills in Potions was enough to lift his spirits (after all, which parent does not swell with pride upon having his offspring praised?). Smiling, Sirius cast location charm. Following his wand, he headed outside the castle, searching for his son.

Spotting his charge walking around the lake, he swiftly headed that way.

'Hey,' he said softly, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry jumped a foot in the air.

'Sirius!' Expressive green eyes widened suddenly in panic. 'Sirius, you have to believe me, it wasn't me! I didn't do it!'

Before Sirius could open his mouth to speak, Harry continued blabbering, trying to get his adoptive father to believe him that he had not put his name in the Goblet of Fire.

With a sigh, Sirius waited till Harry wore himself out.

'I'm sorry.' The whispered words quickly brought Sirius' attention back to his son's face. Looking at him, he could see that Harry had an almost defeated air about him.

'Whatever for?' Sirius asked in confusion. Suddenly he understood what Harry was trying to say. 'You silly child,' He said with mild exasperation. 'I believe you.'

'You do?'

'Uh, yes, I was pretty sure you had not put your name in ever since you sent that letter through that demon owl.'

'Oh.' Harry looked down at the ground, scuffing his trainers against the dirt.

Shaking his head with a small smile, Sirius put a finger under the boy's chin, making him look up.

His smile slipped off his face when he saw the expression on his son's face.

'Hey, what's the matter?'

'It's ... it's nothing.' Harry looked away.

'It certainly is something,' Sirius replied seriously. Looking around, he guided Harry to a tree that he remembered from his schooldays. Erecting a privacy ward and a notice-me-not charm, he turned back to his son. 'There, no one can hear or see us. Now, what has you so bothered?'

Harry was silent for a long moment. A part of him wanted to tell Sirius about everything that had happened since his name had come out last night. He desperately wanted to tell Sirius about how the whole school except Neville thought that he had cheated his way into the Tournament. About how Ron and Hermione were doing their best to keep away from him and had not spoken to him despite his best efforts to get them to talk to him. He also wanted to tell his father about how, Ron, his best mate, hated him and wasn't willing to talk to him because he too, like the rest, believed that Harry had somehow managed to put his name into the Goblet.

But Harry detested. He did not know why, but he found himself uttering, 'No, it's just the whole Triwizard Tournament thing,' instead.

Sirius gave him a long look as if he did not fully believe him. Nonetheless, he replied, 'I can understand that.'

'Yeah,' Seeing Sirius accept the excuse, Harry seized onto it, calling up the other source of his frustration. 'I mean, the other three champions are all seventeen years or older. They have three years more experience over me, and they all think that I am some little boy who will finish dead last.'

Sirius raised an eyebrow at the indignant tone. Without saying anything, he looked out towards the lake. 'So I think your course of action here is more than clear, no?'

'It is?' Harry asked curiously.

'Indeed,' Sirius replied. 'Let's show those bastards what a son of the houses of Potter and Black can do.'

Harry snorted. It was the first time he had heard an adult consciously swear around him.

'Yeah, let's win this fucking thing!' he replied with enthusiasm. He felt some of the tension slide off his shoulders.

'That's the spirit,' Sirius ruffled his hair. 'Between the two of us, you are sure to kill in this Tournament. By the end of the year, you will be holding that cup and the other champions will be eating their words.'

Harry beamed at Sirius, his spirits momentarily lifted.

'However,' Sirius said with a serious face. 'I hope you realise that you getting into this Tournament essentially means that this is going to be your last year in Hogwarts? I don't know about you, but being enrolled against your will into an event that was until recently cancelled because of the high death toll counts as life threatening.'

'Hey, you said we'd wait a whole year!'

Sirius looked at Harry for a long moment. 'Fair enough,' he said finally. 'I can wait. But I wouldn't hold too much hope. The tasks are going to be quite dangerous.'

Seeing Harry relax, Sirius reached out and lightly squeezed the back of Harry's neck with his palm. 'Right, I must be off. I will see you later, yeah?'

'Yeah,'

'Good, also I hope you keep your spare wand with you at all times?'

In response, Harry just flicked his left hand, releasing the wand from its holster.

Sirius nodded in approval. He had commissioned three dragon-hide wand holsters, one for him and two for Harry. They had been impregnated with as many notice-me-not wards and invisibility and disillusionment charms as the magical hide could hold. Sirius had done so upon hearing about Alastor's magical eye and its capabilities. For every one good guy who had one of those, it was quite possible for ten bad guys to have the same thing. It had cost quite a lot, but it would be more than worth it.

'Oh, one last thing,'

'Yeah?'

Sirius looked at Harry in the eye. 'Consider this your first and last warning. The next time I hear you swear in my presence, I will wash your mouth out. Do you hear me?'

Gulping, Harry nodded. 'Yes sir.'

Sirius nodded. 'Good. Keep the profanities strictly with your friends. There shall be no swearing around me until you are twenty. After that, feel free to curse like a sailor.'

Dispelling the wards, he turned once again to make his leave when he remembered one last thing.

'Oh, and take this.' He took a mirror from his pocket and handed it to Harry. 'This is a two way mirror. I have the other pair. Just say my name into the mirror and my face will appear in the reflection. This way, you can reach me faster. At least I won't have to put up with that owl's diva like antics so much.'

'Orion is a good owl!' Harry protested. 'He's pretty intelligent, you know. You should give him a chance.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Sirius lightly cuffed Harry on his head. 'Well, I really have to go.' Cupping his son's face, he said, 'Love you kid.'

Harry choked up. 'Love you too ... dad.' He said thickly.

Smiling, Sirius turned around and finally left.

On his way out, he was hailed by Hagrid. After a brief conversation with the large man, Sirius mentioned his bike.

'Ah, Yer bike,' Hagrid brought a large hand to his head. 'I completely forgot abou' it. It's been lyin' in me shed all this time. I expect tha' it'd be quite rusty now.'

'I'll have someone by to pick it up soon,' Sirius said. 'If it's in a bad shape, then it would be a nice project to get it working again. Anyway, thanks, Hagrid. Cheers!'

'Ta!'

As he approached the front gates, Sirius could not help but frown in concern. He could not help but feel that his son was hiding something from him. Something that was clearly bothering the boy.

* * *

><p><strong>Ten points to the person who can figure out which fictional island I compared Black Island to.<strong>

**Read and Review!**

**Edited on Thirtieth of January 2013  
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	3. Act III

**And finally, the very last instalment of _Black Vengeance_! I hope you enjoy this. Now I can get back to my other story.  
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****For those of you who did not get it, Black Island was based off Kirrin Island from Enid Blyton's _Famous Five _Series. Ten points to all of those that did!**  
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****Oh, and I changed a little something regarding the second task here and included a small scene regarding Peter Pettigrew's fate just before the epilogue ... I hope you like it.  
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><p><strong>Act III Scene I<strong>

* * *

><p>Between extending his influence and making himself a well-known figure, managing the Potter and the Black fortunes (though he might as well call it "the Potter-Black fortune" as the two families were now fully combined), studying the locket and now finding out a way to help his son through the Tournament, the days slipped by for Sirius. Before he knew it, it was the thirteenth of November.<p>

Looking at the date gave Sirius pause. It was five days away from the first task of the tournament. While he had been in constant contact with Harry, helping the boy as much as he could, he could not help feel that something was not right. The smiles seemed half-hearted, and the happiness in his demeanour felt forced.

Something was bothering his boy, and Sirius did not know what to do.

As if some divine being was hearing his thoughts, a handsome tawny owl flew into the room bearing a letter.

Opening the letter, Sirius perused the contents. Troubled, he set the missive aside and immediately drew a fresh piece of parchment towards him. Penning a short reply, he looked up to see the owl had left in the meantime.

Sirius swore before hanging his head in defeat. It looks like he would have to get this delivered through that demon owl. Really, he should have named the thing in the first place. "Voldemort the second" sounded like an apt name.

* * *

><p>Harry sighed as he trudged down to the Great Hall for breakfast. His life was utterly miserable right now, and he found that he had no energy to go through the day.<p>

He could not believe that he had thought that Fourth Year had started out on such a high note. When he had boarded the train, he was in high spirits: he had gone through a growth spurt (and was now reaching Sirius' chest), the summer's activities had seemingly paid off as he had noticed (or thought he had noticed anyway) a slight amount of definition on his otherwise smooth, flat stomach and skinny arms and legs. And to top it all off was the few hairs he had definitely noticed growing at important parts of his body (most noticeably, the five strands on his upper lip that he was really proud to show off). In other words, he was on his way to being a man.

But that did not compare to the joy he felt at having not only his friends, but a father. Sirius was the first adult to care for him like a parent should. He had taken an active interest in Harry's life and had helped in setting Harry on the right track. What was more he had actually cared enough to bring him in line whenever he screwed up. Harry did not like the punishments (he especially detested being made to sit in a corner – he could not decide if it was worse than the spanking) but he couldn't help but feel a small amount of belonging, like he mattered.

He should have known that things wouldn't last this way for long. It had started off small. Hermione had a tiff with him at the Welcoming Feast when he had repeated what Sirius had told him about house-elves and how in return for shelter and enhanced magic, they served their wizard masters. He had also tried to tell her that the elves actually wanted to help and do all that work. For some reason, he could not get through to her.

Thanks to the extra tutoring over the summer, Harry had a better understanding of how magic worked and for once, did not feel as if his brain had been wrung out on the first day. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had actually praised him on being one of the few to get the spells right first. It had given him a warm feeling.

To top it all, Potions stopped being something Harry hated with a passion. Without the presence of Snape, the subject had become fun and easy to learn. The number of cauldrons blown up, melted or otherwise ruined by Neville had also decreased dramatically.

The teacher, a professor Slughorn, was a large and gregarious man who took delight in teaching the subject. What was more, he had also seemed to have taken a liking to Harry and Neville from the train ride itself when he had invited the two of them for lunch. While Harry found it slightly uncomfortable at first, he found himself liking the parties the man had organised.

But what really got him comfortable around Slughorn was the fact that the man had taught his parents and had a particular fondness for his mother despite, according to him, his surprise at her being Muggleborn.

Had this been said to Harry a year back, then he would not have liked the Potions teacher that much. But he had spoken to his dad about the same subject over the summer.

Sirius looked at his son thoughtfully after the subject had been raised. 'If I told you to make me a cup of tea, what would you do?' seeing the uncomprehending expression on Harry's face, he continued. 'Just humour me. I promise you it will answer your question.'

'Um,' Harry began slowly. 'Well, I would have to go down to the kitchen and get the tin of tea leaves. Then I would boil some water, put the leaves in it and –'

Sirius held up his hand. 'Watch this,' he said. Taking out his wand, he flicked it, causing the tea set to appear. With another flick, the teapot was filled with water. With a twitch, the leaves streamed out of the tin and into the pot. A tap caused steam to billow from the spout, and with a final wave, the pot floated up and poured tea into two cups, one of which was floating towards Harry.

'While I agree that blood is not indicative of power, there is still the fact that unlike the Muggleborn, Purebloods and Half Bloods will always be better at magic because we are simply good at it.' Sirius took a satisfied sip. 'Muggleborns and Muggle-raised are not brought up in magic. They are only introduced to it at a much later stage. They see it as an extra ability, like how a person can touch his nose with the tip of his tongue, or, Merlin forbid, a tool. We, who have been brought up in and around magic see it as a way of life. To us, magic is a part of our very beings. It isn't just any old ability, it is what we are. It is not easy for a person to stop thinking like a Muggle and switch over to thinking like a Magical and embracing magic as a part of yourself. Few can do it in a short time. Your mother was a good example of such a person. Despite being Muggleborn, Lily took to thinking like a witch with such quickness that by her third year, most of our peers thought that she had magical parents.'

Harry mentally conceded that Sirius had a point. But he wasn't done yet.

'Maybe if they let the Muggleborn and the Muggle-raised to perform magic over the holidays it wouldn't be so bad. The trace is quite unfair. That the Ministry knows only who performs magic only in Muggle neighbourhoods, stinks of a conspiracy to keep the Muggleborn down.' He had said, recalling what he had read from the library along with Hermione's numerous rants over the past year when she had chanced on that information in her search for an effective strategy for the now executed Buckbeak.

'What on earth gave you that idea?' Sirius replied incredulously. 'The Trace only works accurately in a Muggle neighbourhood; yes, that is true. The Ministry cannot tell if the underage person is performing magic in a magical environment giving Pureblood and Half Blood children the freedom to perform magic over the summer; again, that is a fact. But this conspiracy theory of yours is quite absurd. The main aim of the Ministry is to keep magic a secret. You have studied your history books, so you do know why we went into hiding in the first place.

'Now, the fact is that there are magical children born to Muggle parents. They are a danger unto themselves and to magical society as they cannot be expected to understand that they must not do magic in the presence of Muggles. In fact, no magical child is expected to understand not to do magic in front of Muggles or be discrete about it. Hence, we have the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. With that, everyone under the age of seventeen is prohibited from doing magic outside school. It's a blanket ban.

'Unfortunately, the Ministry does not have the technology to precisely detect who did what magic. If it were, then trust me, crime rates would be much lower, and Voldemort probably would have been behind bars the minute he committed his first murder. So the Ministry expects parents to supervise their children and keep them in line. The only time a Pureblood or Half Blood child will be caught doing magic by the Ministry sensors is if they are in a Muggle area and away from parental supervision. Adult magic usage falls under the Statue of Secrecy and believe me, the penalties are much worse there.'

Sirius spent a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. 'It isn't really fair on the Muggleborn and Muggle-raised children as the law is more capable of monitoring them than indulgent parents of Magic-raised children, but that's the best the government can do at this point of time. There have been advances on The Trace, but they haven't been implemented. That's because applying those charms has been decried by the public as a major invasion in privacy. And interestingly enough, a majority of those naysayers happen to be Muggleborn. I remember Lily ranting about the topic when implementing those measures was proposed. She made sure James voted against that as well.'

Harry loved such debates. He and Sirius had talked at length about various issues over drinks (Sirius with a whiskey glass of his favourite single malt, and Harry with a similar glass, but filled with butterbeer) after dinner, before Harry had to go to bed.

From these debates, Harry was apprised of the history behind many issues in the wizarding world. He got to know that it was because of their general aggressiveness towards humans and inability to control themselves when transformed that fuelled all the anti-werewolf legislation. At the same time, the attitude towards vampires was warming up because of their recent switch to drinking from blood banks and keeping voluntary donors.

Finally, Harry fully understood what it meant to be The Boy Who Lived. Sirius told him that people's fascination with him with him was partly due to him being the cause behind Voldemort vanishing, and more importantly, because he was the only person in the entire history of the curse (which was about five hundred years) who had taken an Avada Kedavra in the face and lived.

Sirius had then talked him through how to react to being stared at. Harry did not have to like it, but he had to at least put on a game face. It would be something that would come in handy both in public and in the political field the day he becomes the head of the family.

It was the little things like this that helped Harry connect with his peers and made him more sociable during Slughorn's first meeting. He had made quite a few acquaintances that night.

He had fit right into Professor Vector's Arithmancy class with minimal trouble, and the model of the galaxy that Sirius had bought for him (a heavily expensive item) had made Astronomy a breeze. Well, that, and the fact that all of Harry's stepfather's ancestors had been named after a constellation.

So not only was he on top of his studies for the first time in his magical education (a pleasant feeling for sure). But life in school was looking up.

Of course, it all went to hell the night his name came out of that thrice cursed Goblet.

The whole of Gryffindor house was ecstatic at the news that one of their own had been selected in the Tournament of the Four Champions (as people were beginning to call it). However, they were the only ones. The other three houses weren't so happy about it. The Hufflepuffs supported their own champion, the Ravenclaws had thrown their lot in with Helga's house and the less said the better about the Slytherins.

The bottom line, though, was that nobody believed that he had not put his name in. Nobody really wanted to listen to the fact that he really could not have fooled an ancient magical artefact _and_ Dumbledore's age line.

Harry felt that it wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact that Ron and Hermione also did not believe him. Both of them refused to talk to him (the only Gryffindors to do so). Ron had also called him a cheater outright!

The only people who believed him were his Quidditch teammates and, surprisingly enough, Neville. It was only because of the blond Gryffindor's silent support (along with the rest of the house being willing to talk to him) that Harry had managed to go through classes without snapping.

But it wasn't a complete success; especially after Malfoy and his lovely _Support Cedric Diggory _badges. Harry really did not care for seeing _Potter Stinks_ flashed in front of his face in so many directions with so many laughing and jeering faces wearing those badges. He and Malfoy had actually traded spells right outside the Potions classroom.

Malfoy's had missed Harry by a hair's breadth, catching Hermione instead, while Harry's superbly aimed nonverbal _Levicorpus _(a feat that impressed the witnesses) had hit the blond git square in the face, hoisting him upside by his ankles, and showing the whole world that he did not believe in wearing underpants under his robes.

The collective had started laughing at the scene. While the Slytherins were divided as to whether to laugh at Malfoy's surprisingly hairless bits or Hermione's large front teeth, the Gryffindors had no such problem. They had unanimously decided that Malfoy's situation was the funniest.

And that was when Professor Slughorn had stepped in.

Knowing by now that their new Head of House would not favour them like Snape had, the Slytherins had been quick to hide the evidence from the teacher. So in the end, while suspicious, Slughorn let the incident slide without comment. He instead had focussed on the two duelling boys.

While Harry had received a detention, he wasn't too unhappy about it. He had managed to get his side of the story heard, thereby landing Malfoy in detention too. Besides, he had managed to embarrass the blond thoroughly. The detention itself had also been quite light.

However, by the end of the day, the badges were all over the place. The students were quick at keeping the alternative message of the badges out of the teachers' eyes, only stopping to show them to Harry.

Despite being urged to grass about the badges, Harry did not say anything. He did not want Malfoy to have the satisfaction that he had succeeded in getting to him.

The continued stress was beginning to wear on him, though. His marks were slowly dropping and he also found himself being reprimanded twice by two different teachers for not paying attention.

What really hurt was the smug look he had spied on Hermione's face when McGonagall was chewing him out.

The media hadn't helped matters either. After the Wand Weighing Ceremony, the article published by one of the Daily Prophet's reporters (a disturbingly artificial looking woman by the name of Rita Skeeter) had only given his schoolmates more ammunition to use against him.

To top it all off was Sirius. His stepfather had not said anything outright, but Harry had the feeling, in the few mirror conversations he had, that the man clearly suspected something and was waiting for Harry to come out and say it. He dreaded the next mirror call for he knew that it would be a matter of time before Sirius read the article. He seriously hoped that none of the teachers had written to the man about his performance in the school. That would result in significant discomfort.

Harry slumped down at the Gryffindor table next to Neville and half-heartedly filled his plate.

'So, what do you plan to do in Hogsmeade?' Neville asked.

Harry paused. He had forgotten that this was the first Hogsmeade weekend.

'I dunno,' he finally said listlessly. 'I'll probably go to the library.'

He had not forgotten the Tournament. Normally he would have felt a cold wave of dread in his stomach at the prospect of facing the unknown in front of so many people. But with everything happening around him and to him, Harry found he really did not have much energy to spare thinking about the first task.

He still had to decide whether it was a good thing or not.

While he put forth the effort to learn as much as he could, he knew that he was up against those who were three to four years older than him. It was quite hopeless really. He couldn't help but feel sorry for himself. If only he had listened to Sirius the first time and gone to Beauxbatons...

'I think you should come.'

Harry was jerked out of his internal monologue by the forceful tone in Neville's voice. He had not heard his friend speak so confidently before.

'I – I mean that you could use some time to relax and unwind.' Neville stammered. 'You're pretty overworked as it is.'

Harry looked at him for a long moment. 'Fine,' he shrugged. It would be nice to get away from it all for a while.

'I'm taking my Invisibility Cloak, though.'

Neville lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, 'Fine by me.'

The two of them set off towards the village. Harry never felt so free in his life. For the first time in days, nobody was looking or pointing at him or making snide comments behind his back.

After a bit of browsing and window shopping, the two headed towards the Three Broomsticks.

'You know, it's a bit crowded in here,' as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Neville looked as if he was speaking to himself. 'I know, let's use one of the private rooms upstairs.' Not giving Harry a chance to respond, he took off.

Wondering what this was all about, Harry followed his friend. He was sure that they would need to talk to Madam Rosmerta first. Neville, it seemed, was not of the same opinion as he weaved through the crowded room and up the stairs.

Seeing that they were alone, Harry removed the cloak. 'Don't we –' his question died in his lips as Neville pushed open a door to reveal his father sitting there.

'Harry, Neville! Come in, come in.' Sirius said, standing up and ushering the two of them inside.

'You boys want anything to eat or drink?' he asked sociably.

'Um, I just remembered something,' Neville said suddenly. 'I'll catch you later, Harry!'

With a quick wave, the blond left the room, leaving his brunette friend sputtering behind him.

'Sit down, Harry,' Sirius said, calling his son's attention to him.

Reluctantly, Harry sat down. They spent lunch in silence, occasionally talking about inconsequential things.

'Now,' said Sirius once they were finished. 'What's been bothering you?'

'Why don't you ask Neville?' Harry replied scathingly. As they had been eating, he had become angrier and angrier at Neville's and Sirius' interference. 'He probably has told you everything.'

Sirius very nearly rolled his eyes at this. 'For your information,' he said in a mild tone which no less had a subtle hint of a warning to it. 'Neville hasn't told me anything. He just mentioned that you were stressed and that he was quite worried about you. Oh, and he also told me that the rest of the school wasn't too happy about you being selected as the champion.' He added at the end. 'He wasn't willing to tell me the specifics when I asked. So, I told him to get you here.'

Harry was taken off guard at this revelation. 'Oh,' he said, still sullen.

After a long moment of seeing his son stare at the table, Sirius exhaled softly and with a wave of his wand, he gently floated Harry's chair next to him. Gently putting an arm around the boy, Sirius gently encouraged Harry to speak up. 'Come on, kid. Something is clearly bothering you. Don't keep it inside. I can help. Both Neville and I want to help. We care deeply about you, Harry and it hurts us to see you so upset.'

Hearing the softly spoken words, Harry's eyes involuntarily started tearing up. Before he knew it, he was on his father's lap, encircled in his arms as he clung onto the man and spoke of what he had gone through the past few weeks in between sniffles and hiccupping sobs. Once he was done with that, he continued on, talking about how he thought that he would end up dead, last or dead last in the Tournament and was afraid of how disappointed Sirius would be with him once that happened.

Sirius silently listened, rocking the boy back and forth as his son told him everything. He was furious at what Harry had to go through. The badges were clearly a case of bullying, and the teachers hadn't done anything to stop it.

At least he had taken care of the Daily Prophet. After reading that article, a furious Sirius had proceeded to show the editor of the paper just where the word "Blackmail" had originated from. Needless to say, he was positive that the paper would not be writing anything about his son or him without his consent.

Just to be safe, he was having the reporter in question tailed. A woman like that was bound to have some skeletons in her closet. He hoped, for her sake, that she was useful. Otherwise, he might just destroy her.

Sirius looked down at the top of Harry's head. The boy had quietened now. Soon enough, he began to stir. Sirius let go of the hold he had on the teenager who shuffled back to his chair, not meeting his eyes. Sirius knew that Harry was embarrassed over the breakdown he had.

Harry was startled when his father only gave him a handkerchief without comment and getting up, looked out of the window, giving him some small measure of privacy to compose himself. He was mortified that he had broken down like that. He was fourteen for Merlin's sake! And yet he had acted like a four year old with a skinned knee that needed babying.

Not that he minded it (and even the Cruciatus Curse would not get him to admit that bit). He was quite grateful that Sirius had not said anything.

Once Sirius felt that enough time had passed, he turned around, and stepped towards his son, engulfing him in a reassuring hug.

Stepping away from him, he grasped Harry's shoulders and met him in the eye, once again marvelling at how fast the boy had grown. 'Hey,' he said softly 'Let me make one thing clear, Harry. Nothing would make me prouder to see you come out on top in this Tournament. But, at the same time, I won't be disappointed should you fail. Even if you come in dead last, with negative points, I still wouldn't be disappointed or cross with you. All that matters to me is that you put up a good enough effort. Without getting yourself killed, of course.' He added at the last moment. 'Or grievously injured because you did not quit while you were ahead. Now _that_ would definitely make me _very_ angry and disappointed. So, as long as you don't get yourself killed or maimed, we're good, yeah?' he winked.

Harry couldn't help but give a small smile in return at the last sentence.

'As for the rest of the school ... well, I would tell you to ignore them for the most part because they don't matter, but I have a feeling that you won't really appreciate that kind of advice. It definitely isn't easy to ignore all that when it constantly grates on your nerves. So I will tell you that yes, things are not good right now. But just hold on a bit longer, and they will improve. At least you have one good friend.'

Harry looked at his father sourly. 'You and Neville set me up.' He said accusingly.

'Yes, we did,' Sirius replied unapologetically. 'And that's because we care about you. So lose the grumpy face.'

Looking at his father, Harry realised that he really wasn't angry at Neville or Sirius. He couldn't be.

It still irritated him though. With a huff, he looked away, muttering under his breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Sirius rolled his eyes in amusement. 'Once they see what you are up against after the first task, it will be as if the past few weeks never happened.' He said.

'That's if I manage to do well in it,' Harry muttered.

Sirius stretched his lips in a half-smile. 'Don't worry about that.' He looked at his watch. 'Come on, we'll talk on our way to the school.'

Ushering him towards the door, Sirius spoke softly into Harry's ear, his breath tickling the fine, colourless and almost invisible hairs on the pinna. 'Now, back straight, and chin up, son. Remember, you are Harry James Alphard Potter-Black, the last of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter and the heir and scion of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. The world is at your feet.'

A pleased smile graced Sirius's lips when he saw Harry squaring his shoulders and straightening his back.

The duo looked quite impressive as they headed down High Street. Harry absently noticed that while everyone was looking at him, nobody said anything. Bolstered by his father's presence, he put on an aloof expression as he looked straight ahead.

* * *

><p>Neville was up in the dorm when Harry came inside.<p>

'Hey, Harry,' he greeted.

'Neville,' Harry eyed the blond for a long moment. 'You are a git,' saying that, he thrust a box into the other boy's hands.

'Chocolate truffles,' he explained, 'Specially made by Mr Flume.'

'Thanks,' Neville said. He really did like those. Picking up one, he popped it into his mouth. He wondered why Harry was looking at him like that. He didn't have to wonder long.

Harry smirked when Neville started coughing when his tongue encountered the spicy centre of the truffle. 'You're still a git, Longbottom.' Smiling openly now, he continued. 'The rest of the truffles aren't spicy, by the way.'

Neville glared half-heartedly at the other boy. It wasn't that bad a prank. After all, he did sort of enjoy the flavour now that he had overcome the shock.

'So what happened with Sirius?' he asked Harry.

'Oh,' Harry said sobering up. Taking a deep breath he continued. 'He is planning on having me enrolled in Town House.'

Neville did a double-take. 'Really?'

Harry only nodded.

'Oh,' Neville looked mildly saddened by the news.

'Yeah,'

'So, when will that happen?'

Harry shrugged, 'Dunno. It depends on how the discussion with Dumbledore goes. Though I hope I end up there.'

'Really, why?'

'Yeah, cause the alternative is my dad being sent to prison for murdering Dumbledore.'

Neville winced. 'He was that angry, huh?'

Harry nodded empathically. 'He looked right hacked off when we parted. He wasn't exactly what you would call "happy" by those badges.'

'I can imagine.'

* * *

><p>Silently fuming, Sirius swept through the hallways towards the headmaster's office. His countenance was such that it sent any student in his path scurrying away.<p>

He was met by Professor McGonagall at the entrance.

'Sirius,' the stern woman greeted with a crisp nod. 'I got your Patronus message about a meeting?'

'Indeed,' Sirius replied. With a sweep of his arm, he said, 'After you, Professor.'

McGonagall turned and gave the password to the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. Sirius followed his old Transfiguration teacher, a step behind her.

They rode up the moving staircase in silence.

Once they reached the top, Professor McGonagall knocked on the door. Upon being bid to enter, she opened the door and stepped inside, followed by Sirius.

'Ah, Lord Black,' Dumbledore said neutrally. 'To what do I owe this pleasure?'

In reply, Sirius extricated a badge from his pocket and tossed it on the headmaster's table. 'Why has this been allowed?'

Dumbledore looked at the phrase on the badge. 'I do not see the problem here. Students are allowed, even encouraged, to express their views. If they want to show support for one of our champions, then there is little we can do to stop them.'

Sirius only sneered in response. 'I see, and they are also allowed to show this message as well?' saying so, he pressed the badge, showing the alternative message.

'I will be the first one to admit that I support the idea of free expression, headmaster, but at the same time there should be a limit as to what is allowed. This is clearly done with malicious intent and designed to hurt an individual, namely my son. What is more, these badges have been in circulation for the past week. I find it highly suspicious that the teachers and the prefects have not noticed anything until now, when I managed to obtain evidence a few minutes after I stepped into the castle.'

Both teachers looked at the badge with heavy frowns on their faces. 'This is horrible,' Professor McGonagall exclaimed finally. 'Who could do such a thing?'

'Oh, I believe that it was Draco Malfoy, from what I heard,' Sirius replied succinctly. 'I trust that he shall be disciplined immediately?'

'I am afraid,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'That there is simply nothing we can do as we have no proof of Mr Malfoy's involvement with this ... incident.'

'Evidence, Dumbledore?' Sirius had a look of incredulity on his face. 'Did I hear right? It's quite interesting that you are looking at evidence now. I mean, a lack of evidence did not stop you before ...'

Dumbledore heaved a deep sigh as he rubbed his temples tiredly. 'Must we come to this topic again and again, Sirius? Yes, we incarcerated you without giving you a trial. But at the same time, we did have evidence. What the eyewitnesses had to say was quite damming. As was the fact that you, James and Lily had me believe that you were the Secret Keeper, not Peter.'

'"Eyewitness statements"?' Sirius asked sceptically. 'What eyewitness statements? You wouldn't possibly be talking about the _Muggles_ that were there in the vicinity, would you?'

'And what if they are Muggles, Sirius?' Dumbledore asked mildly. 'Do you have a problem with them?'

'No, I have no problem. It's just that ... well, how can you count on their testimonies when they do not know what they are talking about or have seen? While what they saw and what they said is good for consideration, surely it cannot be the only piece of evidence. Any Auror will tell you that eyewitness statements from Muggles are circumstantial at best. They do not know what they see, and they can get things wrong. Had it been a witch or wizard, they would have known that I had cast a shield spell, and not some deadly curse.'

'And if you had given me a fair trial, or even asked me outright, you would have known that the Will left behind by James and Lily would have been enough proof! It was a legal document, signed by both the Potters with a statement that clearly pointed out that I was _not _the Secret Keeper.' Sirius scowled at the headmaster. 'Imbecile,' he muttered under his breath.

Dumbledore's eyes flashed as Professor McGonagall gasped out loud at the blatant insult. 'Be that as it may, it is not going to change the fact that I am not going to take any action against Mr Malfoy.' The headmaster said coolly. 'Finally, I think you know very well that I do look at evidence. After all, it was a lack of evidence on Severus' part that ensured that you were not expelled immediately for leading him to a fully-fledged werewolf.'

Dumbledore's remark seemed to make the room colder as Sirius stared at the old man with an inscrutable expression, his eyebrows raised. 'I see,' he said. 'So, that is why you put me in Azkaban without a trial and made Harry suffer for so long! It was vengeance because you couldn't expel me or James from school, was it?' Sirius laughed darkly. 'Snape was the one snooping around. I did not tell him to go into the passageway. I only told him how to access it. Any enterprising student who asked the right questions and read the right books would have been able to do the same thing. He was the one who decided to enter the passageway. I told you that then, and I tell you the same thing now. But the fact that you would actually take that incident out on an innocent fourteen year old is ... quite petty of you.'

'I don't want to hear it,' Sirius said holding up his hand when Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply. 'Whatever you have to say, I really have no desire hearing. Clearly Harry and I are out on our own. Thankfully, I have taken my rightful place as a member of the Board of Governors. After Malfoy was evicted, the Black seat was quite empty –'

At that moment, Sirius was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

'Enter,' Dumbledore called out.

The door opened to let Horace Slughorn inside. 'Sorry I'm late,' the corpulent man said, huffing slightly. 'I had a something that needed my attention at the very last moment. Anyway, Sirius, I received your Patronus message about a meeting. I'm afraid that I will have to postpone that. My meeting with the headmaster is quite delayed as it is.'

'Oh, it's no problem, Horace,' Sirius said affably. 'I just wanted to drop by for a bit of a chat. Also, I wanted to enrol my son into Town House, which I believe you are the new head of.'

'Town House,' Dumbledore repeated with tones of mild curiosity in his voice. Those who had experience with him knew that the man was incredibly surprised.

'Yes, Town House,' Sirius turned to the headmaster. 'You know … the unofficial fifth house of Hogwarts? Surely you remember that one. Granted, that the house isn't a house per se, and is general Hogwarts-slang used to refer to dayboys and while a person might be "in Town House", he or she is still a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. They just go home after evening prep, unlike the boarders.' Sirius gave Dumbledore a condescending look. 'I am surprised you don't know about that one. I mean, five of your students are in Town House, after all.'

Professor Dumbledore only smiled blandly. 'Yes, well, I also do recall that an important qualification of being eligible for Town House is that you should be living in Hogsmeade. From what I know, the Blacks do not have a house there. And since Hogsmeade is a Magical World Heritage Site, construction of new buildings is forbidden, meaning that the only way you can get a house in the village is if an existing house were to fall vacant. And, considering the history and significance of the settlement, something like that only will happen if an entire family dies out or someone becomes so destitute that he is willing to sell his house. As of yesterday, Hogsmeade's population hasn't changed.'

Sirius' smile did not falter. 'True, headmaster, but you also forget something else. I come from a very old and very wealthy family. We have been around much before Hogsmeade was declared as a World Heritage site. So it stands to reason that we would have a house there. And let's not forget about the Potters. They too have a property in the village. They haven't sold it as the prices are quite astronomical as to be nearly priceless.

'Now both these families, like many other old pureblood families, have put these properties up on rent. And it so happens that the contract of the tenant of the Potter property has long expired. In fact,' he fished out a document from his pocket. 'The contract was to have been renewed by the Head of the Potter family, or his guardian, two years back. I believe that guardian was you.' Sirius smiled pleasantly at the old man. 'And you really haven't done that, now have you? So it looks like Mr Diggle and his family is going to have to find a new place. They have certainly overstayed their welcome.'

Seeing Dumbledore's eyes widen fractionally, Sirius continued. 'Ah! So you knew! And judging by that expression, Diggle went running to you and you obviously tried to change my mind. I guess I missed that letter ... shame.' He stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'Or did I burn it after reading its contents thereby ejecting the memory of reading that letter from my mind? Eh, whatever,' he shrugged.

'So it looks like I do have a house in Hogsmeade.' Turning to Professor Slughorn, he continued. 'I trust that the paperwork will be ready by Tuesday?' Getting a nod from the Potions master, he clapped his hands and stood up. 'Excellent, well, I must be going. Have tenants to evict and a house to renovate.'

'Sirius, you can't do this –'

'You will find that I can, Dumbledore,' Sirius replied coolly. 'That contract was to have been renewed, it did not happen. End of story. I did the gentlemanly thing and gave them two weeks' notice. It's not my problem that they haven't moved. Now, not only will I forcibly evict them, I will ensure that I collect the unpaid rent from the last two years in full as well. And I am going to slap them with a fine too.' He smiled chillingly. 'You were planning on wresting that property from Harry's possession and just giving it to them weren't you? You sicken me, Dumbledore.'

'Anyway,' he nodded to Professors Slughorn and McGonagall. 'Sir, Ma'am, it's always a pleasure to talk to you. Albus,' he sneered at the headmaster. 'Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you. Goodbye.'

Turning around, Sirius swept towards the door. Opening it, he turned to Professor Slughorn. 'Oh, and Horace,' he said pleasantly. 'I have it on good authority that one of your students needs watching over as he is something of a troublemaker. Make sure that Lucius Malfoy's spawn toes the line, will you? I would hate to have to step in otherwise.'

Getting a nod from the man, Sirius turned around and exited the office.

* * *

><p>Minerva waited till Albus had finished with Horace before speaking up, her eyes accusing. 'Did you really try and swindle Harry?'<p>

With a supreme act of will, Dumbledore repressed a sigh. 'No, Minerva,' he said heavily. 'I genuinely forgot about it. Truth be told, I haven't had much time for managing the Potter estate, which is why I left it to the goblins. Also, I never did have much of a head for accounts or money. I did not know who to trust to oversee the fortune, and frankly between the school, the Wizengamot and the International Council of Wizards not to mention counselling our Minister daily, I really have no free time. What I do have is spent trying to find out what Tom is up to and where he is. You can appreciate that some other things, while no less important, will be put on the wayside.'

Minerva could see the point the headmaster had made. 'Then why did you stay silent when Sirius accused you?'

His voice becoming sombre, Dumbledore said, 'Sirius has not forgiven me for what happened to him twelve years ago. He is, justifiably, angry at me, Millicent and Barty for the injustice done to him. As it is, he can only see the worst in my actions. He will not listen to anything I have to say now. I think him summarily ignoring my letter proved that.' he ended with a bitter smile. 'I have committed too many wrongs on the boy for him to forgive me. At least at this moment, I do have some hope for the future.'

Minerva looked troubled by this. 'Well,' she said after a few moments, regaining her brisk voice. 'The least we can do right now is right this one wrong.' She tapped the badge in front of him.

Dumbledore's face darkened as he picked up the badge. 'If this wasn't so malicious, I would actually be impressed at the Charm Work that went into it. However, I digress,' his voice dropped to frigid levels as he uttered his next few words. 'Call for a school assembly, Minerva. I think an hour before dinner is to commence would be apt. Attendance will be mandatory, and the uniform compulsory. We will put an end to this.'

Minerva had rarely seen the headmaster so angry before, so it always chilled her to the bone when it happened. The man was rarely, if ever, furious. Even Potter and Weasley's stunt in their second year hadn't been enough to get him this livid. She knew that if she were in his shoes at that time, both the boys would be feeling the cane for not only breaking the law by exposing magic to so many Muggles across the country, but for also risking their fool necks in a such a hare-brained stunt instead of using their heads. Flying a car to school, honestly!

Shaking her head, she got up. 'What about the foreigners, Albus?'

'I will take care of them, Minerva.' Dumbledore replied steadily. 'You just see to the announcement. There isn't much time as it is.'

Watching his deputy leave the office, Albus sagged against his chair. Sirius had proven to be quite a thorn in his side. The embittered man had stirred up the political world. His opponents, both domestic and international, were buzzing like angry hornets. He still remembered the remark his main opponent had made in the annual I.C.W. meeting.

'... I have to wonder about the kind of country Britain is,' said the Italian ambassador, Biaggio Ghirlandaio as he looked directly at Albus. 'If the representatives of her society are so corrupt and amoral that they would lock a man in prison for twelve years without giving him a trial... And they accuse other nations of not following basic human rights.'

While he had been shot down quite easily, the damage was already done. Albus could hear the hushed whispers in the background calling his character into question. The last time this had happened was when he was in school and people were talking about his father. Albus was surprised to note that time and age had not lessened or changed his feelings towards the situation.

It was only because plans had already been made and not possible to change without incurring huge costs that the Triwizard Tournament and the Quidditch World Cup had happened in Britain. There were quite a few international protests calling for the boycott of the World Cup. Had it been England playing in the finals, Albus was sure that the turnout would have been much lower.

Of the three of them, Albus was the least affected. Barty himself was desperately clinging onto his post, working day and night.

Millicent had been hit the hardest. Her reputation had been soundly destroyed, thanks mainly to Sirius Black. The Black Family had enough dirt on her to seriously damage her character. Amelia's people were already all over the former minister, sniffing out anything they could find while the poor woman's entire fortune was slowly but steadily being taken away from her battling Sirius who had accused her of every single crime against him that his legal team could pin on her. Albus suspected that Barty would have the full attention of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and consequently Sirius, as soon as the Tournament ended.

He had a lot of time to try and make amends with the man. While Albus seriously doubted that Sirius would be able to do much damage to his reputation (if he could survive Orion Black and Arcturus Black III, then he could survive Sirius Black III) he still wanted the man to let go of his anger. Albus knew that it would be only a matter of time before Voldemort rose again and the wizarding world would need to be united against him and his Death Eaters and dark forces. And Sirius, with his position as head of the Black family would be valuable.

Besides that, there was the more important fact that Albus also wanted to see Sirius at peace. He still remembered the fresh-faced happy schoolboy years before. He owed it to the Potters at the least to see to it that their son's close friend finally found some peace with himself.

But that was much later. Right now, he had two separate headmasters to talk to.

The students of Hogwarts filed into the Great Hall wondering what was going on. All the tables with the exception of the teachers' table had been shifted to one side leaving an open space for them to stand, sorted by year and house.

They spent a few moments speaking in hushed whispers, not daring to speak louder than normal as the Heads of Houses were looking over them with grim expressions on their faces. Professor McGonagall herself had a rather fierce scowl on her face. But that was nothing compared to the look Professors Sprout and Flitwick were sporting. Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing such expressions on the normally easy-going instructors, but every student there thought that, for once, the strict Head of Gryffindor House looked quite collected compared to the Heads of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

The sombre expression on Professor Slughorn, unusual on his normal jovial face, went without comment as he was new enough to the students. Besides, everybody was used to Snape, so it was easy to think of a scowling Head of Slytherin House.

Those observations went out of the window when the door of the staff entrance to the Great Hall opened and the headmaster strode in.

'Professor Dumbledore does not look happy,' Fred Weasley commented to his fellow Sixth-Year housemates.

'That is an understatement,' breathed Angelina. 'Did the two of you do something?' she accused, glancing at them suspiciously.

'Heavens, no!' George replied scandalised.

'We would never!' Fred said in a low voice.

'Not after the warning he gave us after our attempt to enter our names in.'

'Too right, George.'

'Wait, warning? What warning?'

'Well, the old beak came to the hospital wing when Madam Pomfrey was getting rid of our beards,' George said lowly, his eyes fixed straight ahead where Dumbledore was softly conversing with Professors Flitwick and Sprout as McGonagall was glaring balefully at the students, almost daring one of them to garner her attention.

'And he told us "While I find your usual antics amusing, I must request you gentlemen to cease these activities for the rest of the year."' Fred continued, doing a passable imitation of Dumbledore's voice.

'"Now, mind you, this is a request, not an order. But do consider who is making this request."' George's imitation was far better than his twin's. 'And then he looked at us in _that way,_ if you know what I mean, and left.'

'Suffice to say, George and I aren't willing to ignore his request.' Fred concluded.

Whatever Angelina was about to say in response was cut off when Professor Dumbledore straightened and looked over at the assembled students.

'As you all know, the Goblet of Fire chose four champions for the Triwizard Tournament, an unusual occurrence to be sure.' He began in a deceptively mild voice. 'Pursuant to this, Professors Karkaroff, Maxime and I have jointly investigated the Goblet and have found evidence of tampering. Tampering that,' he gave them a particularly steely look, 'requires skill and expertise that can only be gained from _years_ of intense study _after_ school. In short, ladies and gentlemen, no student of any of the three schools could have done this. Further investigations made by the Auror department and the Dee Em El Ee have only corroborated this fact while ruling out all of the suspects, both usual and otherwise.

'In conclusion, Mr Potter has not entered his name into the Goblet, and has also not consented to the entering of his name either. Unfortunately, however, he still has to compete as whomsoever has done this tampering has also made sure that the Goblet recognises Mr Potter's name as a legitimate entry, meaning that he has no choice but to compete.'

Dumbledore paused to look at every assembled student, his blue eyes burning.

'Now I admit that it was an oversight on mine and the staff's part in not sharing this information with you, and I can appreciate, in hindsight, the feelings of betrayal and anger most of you must be feeling for whatever reasons. However, it does not excuse this sort of behaviour!'

The whole hall collectively flinched as the headmaster's voice echoed throughout the room as he let his true feelings be shown at the badges that he had spotted on some of the students.

Quick as a whip, he had his wand drawn and pointed at the crowd so fast that it took all those assembled a moment to realise that he held a wand. The sound of ripping cloth was soon heard as each and every single badge was summoned onto the table behind the headmaster.

Indignant cries from those who had their front pockets unceremoniously torn were quelled when the affected students saw the face of the headmaster.

With a furious expression, Dumbledore flicked his wand again, causing one of the badges to float off the table and stand next to him where it expanded till it was the size of a kite shield, the words _Potter_ _Stinks_ plainly visible to those who were standing all the way at the back.

'This,' he rumbled. 'Is the most vile and despicable acts of bullying I have ever seen in my years as headmaster. You all should be ashamed of yourselves for this!' he looked at them for a long moment before saying in a low voice that still carried to the back, 'All of those who were wearing these badges, step forward, now! And don't think to hide; I can clearly see the ripped pockets and your Heads of Houses have been also closely observing you. And don't try repairing them either.'

There was muted commotion as some of the guilty students shuffled forward. The others had to be weeded out by the teachers who were quick to call them out.

Dumbledore fixed them all with a gaze not unlike the one on Professor McGonagall's face. 'I am seriously disappointed in the lot of you. While I have no problem with you declaring your support for one of your champions, I do not approve targeting another student in such a manner. It is unbecoming of a student of Hogwarts, and even more so from one of our prefects.' He said with a glance at the lone prefect (a seventh-year from Slytherin house) standing there.

'Now considering the oversight on our part,' Dumbledore said after a long pause. 'We have decided that the punishment for this shall be lessened.' Pausing, he surveyed them with a look of extreme disappointment on his face.

'You will all lose fifty house points each.' He finally pronounced.

As one the students gasped. Those who could add quickly in their heads told their friends what this meant. Slytherin would be hit the hardest with a two hundred and fifty point loss with Hufflepuff a close second at two hundred. Ravenclaw had also taken significant damage, though had escaped relatively unscathed with only fifty points being taken away. Gryffindor was the only one to have been left alone.

With Quidditch gone for the year, it would be quite hard, almost impossible, for Slytherin and Hufflepuff to catch up to or beat Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

'As for the rest of you,' the headmaster looked up at the crowd. 'If you have one of these badges, then I request you to turn them over to your head of house. There will be no repercussions. You have until Monday to comply. Anyone found with these badges after that day will be dealt with harshly. Of course, that will be nothing compared to what will happen to the person who made these badges, once they are discovered.' His eyes swept over the crowd one last time. 'You lot, stay here,' he said to the students standing in front of him. 'As for the rest of you, you are dismissed. Dinner will be served in half an hour.'

As the students started to move out, Dumbledore spoke up once again. 'Prefects, stay behind.'

The next day, the rest of Hogwarts found out that Slytherin had suffered the additional loss of one of their prefects. Dumbledore had been quick to dismiss the Slytherin seventh year. The other prefects also looked visibly chastened. Most of them had started taking to their duties with a renewed zeal.

* * *

><p><strong>Act III Scene II<strong>

* * *

><p>Sirius sat in his seat, his nerves on edge as he watched the dragon handlers place the first dragon. He had hit many dead ends in his quest to find out about the first task. He really did not know where or who to approach without making his intentions clear. Ludo Bagman tended to have loose lips and Barty Crouch … he would rather grope a dragon than talk to that man. The same went with Dumbledore. He doubted Fudge knew much. So that left more indirect means that took a lot of time.<p>

By the time he first met Harry face to face, he had found out that the task involved dragons somehow. It was, surprisingly, through Hagrid that he had found out that the champions had to just get past them and not (mercifully) fight them.

He had contacted Harry post-haste and (after calming the boy down) had developed a strategy.

He silently watched Amos Diggory's son take on the Swedish Short Snout. The boy was quite good at transfiguration. He winced in sympathy when the dragon nearly roasted the Hufflepuff, having lost interest in the transfigured dog.

It looked like transfiguration was not that helpful. Dragons, Sirius guessed, were quite good at spotting real animals from conjurations.

The veela girl's attempt was quite … interesting. He had no idea that veela could affect other species of their gender. The general rule was that male veela affected females and vice versa.

Viktor Krum's strategy was the one that he had initially thought of himself. But now, he was beginning to see the possible downside to that strategy. Firstly, it was hard enough to aim at a dragon's eyes, what with it being quite capable of moving, and secondly, getting past a rampaging half blind dragon that is even more pissed off at being blinded is very difficult.

As the whistle sounded, Harry walked out of the tent. As he approached the arena, he felt as if he was in a dream. Hundreds of faces were staring down at him from the stands and the horntail was watching him from the other side of the field, its great yellow eyes suspiciously tracking his every moment.

Assessing the situation, Harry realised one crucial fact. The Horntail was too far for him to accurately get its eyes. Another plan was needed, and quickly. Nervously, he dug his hand in his robe pocket, hoping for some inspiration.

He gave a little start when his sweaty palm closed around an object. Looking at his surroundings one more time, a plan began to take form in his mind.

Taking out his wand, Harry began to act.

Sirius watched as Harry took out his wand and cast a summoning charm with a frown on his face. They had not discussed this bit.

Sirius' jaw dropped when he saw the Firebolt come zooming out into the clearing. Harry surely wasn't thinking to _outfly_ a bloody dragon!

Harry, on the other hand was not done. Running forward, he cast banishing charms at a few rocks, aiming at the dragon's head. He had only looked up the charm last night, and so was not as precise with the wand movements had he practised much earlier. However, sheer desperation enabled him to pull it off.

With a nimble swiftness, the dragon jerked its head to the side, neatly dodging the first boulder and getting into the path of the second which it obliterated with a lazy fireball.

But it was not prepared for the smaller projectile that was closely following the second stone.

Owing to its small size and lighter weight, the large packet of Dungbombs flew faster than the heavier rocks and was not noticed by the Hungarian Horntail till the very last moment when it exploded right in its open mouth.

Bagman actually stopped commenting as he and the equally stunned crowd watched as the dragon started gagging and coughing, rearing up as it tried to get the foul stuff out of its buccal cavity.

Not wasting much time, Harry jumped on his broom and flew towards the distracted Horntail and the golden prize nestled betwixt its clutch of eggs.

He was nearly there when the Horntail suddenly let out a jet of flame as it crashed down on all fours.

Ducking under the fire and feeling the tips of his hair getting singed, Harry made a sharp left and looped around the great beast's right foreleg till he was underneath the dragon's belly. Lowering his arm, he scooped the golden egg up and flew out as fast as he could, narrowly dodging a second jet of flames that nonetheless managed to singe his left side. But Harry did not care, as he was now properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup —

'Look at that!' Bagman was yelling. 'Will you look at that? Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!'

Harry landed in front of Professor McGonagall; robes still smoking and a big grin on his face.

'Good work, Mr Potter,' the transfiguration teacher said with one of her rare smiles. She nodded towards the tent behind her. 'You better get that shoulder looked at.'

Nodding, Harry entered the tent.

He had barely set foot inside when Madam Pomfrey descended upon him.

'Dragons,' the matron sniffed in disgust. 'Well, sit. And take that robe off, let's see that shoulder.'

Examining the burn, she took a tub of yellow paste and started dabbing at the affected skin, muttering underneath her breath, 'You are lucky that this is only a second degree burn. This is lunacy I tell you!'

Harry quietly listened to her, trying not to flinch too much as the paste was applied onto sensitive skin.

'Now sit still. You can wait for a few minutes to get your score,' Saying that, the school matron left to go tend to the others.

But Harry was too keyed up to just sit in one place. As soon as he was left alone, he got up and began pacing. He was elated at having survived this task.

A minute later, Neville burst into the tent, sporting a huge grin himself. 'That was brilliant mate!'

'Thanks, Neville,' Harry replied.

'Come on let's go check your scores.'

Harry put on his robe and followed Neville out. He was met outside by Terry Boot and Susan Bones. The two of them were the first to apologise to him after Dumbledore had dressed down the whole school. While Susan had not worn the badge herself, she still felt guilty about not having said anything.

After some hesitation, Harry had accepted their apologies. He was on speaking terms with the two of them earlier in the year through Slughorn's party and had formed a tentative friendship before his name had come out. He understood that they really did not know him enough to be able to tell if he was being truthful the first time when he said that he had not put his name in.

Madame Maxime had given him an eight out of ten, while Professor Dumbledore was less strict with his score of nine. Bagman and Crouch were the most generous with full marks. The Durmstrang headmaster, on the other hand, was the least accommodating as the number four that shot of his wand showed, much to the indignation of Harry's friends. But Harry didn't really care. He was in first place, one point ahead of Viktor Krum. What was more, he wasn't feeling so miserable, isolated and friendless anymore.

A slow smile spread out on his face when he saw that most of the school, except the Slytherins (and he really did not care about them) was cheering for him. Just like Sirius had told him, seeing what he had to face had turned them around. The headmaster's speech had helped matters along too.

Feeling someone standing behind him, Harry turned around to see Sirius standing there with an inscrutable expression on his face.

'Good job, Harry.' He finally allowed a small smile to form on his face. Nodding, he greeted Harry's companions.

Harry grinned in relief. Sirius smiling meant that he wasn't displeased with the fact that he had not followed with the plan. Not that Harry felt that his deviation was unjustified.

'So,' Sirius said under his breath, slowly drawing him away from Neville and the rest, who were chattering amongst themselves, completely oblivious to what was happening behind them. 'Any reason you decided to out-fly a dragon?'

'That would be because of me, Sirius.'

'Alastor!' Sirius said as he turned around, a smile on his face. 'What do you mean?'

'Well I caught your kid warning Diggory about the first task,' Moody said, his magical eye focused on Harry even though he was facing Sirius. 'Apparently he knew that the other two champions also were forewarned and so wanted to level the playing field. I have to say, I am impressed at your lad's fairness.' He looked approving as he said that. 'So anyway, I decided to give him a bit of advice of my own.'

'You told him to go and fly against a dragon?'

'Fuck no, Black!' Moody barked. 'I only told him to play to his strengths. Everything else he did is his decision.'

Both men looked at Harry who stammered. 'W-well, I was going to do what we had planned, but seeing that Horntail so far away, I knew I wouldn't be able to hit it accurately in the eye from so far off. Getting closer wasn't an option as that would be a stupid thing to do,' he looked at Sirius meaningfully. 'So I improvised.'

'And that was a damn good plan!' Moody growled approvingly. You got the egg out in the least amount of time with minimal losses. With that kind of _savior faire, _you will make a great Auror.' He clapped Harry on the shoulder. Hard.

'Don't you think it is bit soon to be recruiting, Alastor?' Sirius, Harry noticed with relief as he rubbed his smarting shoulder, sounded like he was in a better mood when he spoke to the former Auror.

'You can't catch them young enough, Black.' Moody shot back. 'Besides, I am quite sure of this one's potential. Not only is he cool under fire, but he managed to throw off my Imperius curse!'

Sirius sniffed in return. 'Yes, that. Showing Unforgivable Curses to schoolchildren? And then putting them under it? That is a bit extreme. They aren't Auror trainees, you know.'

'We have been through this for the nth time, Black.' Moody said with a roll of his real eye. 'It's done with already. So shut the fuck up.'

'Wait,' Harry interjected. 'You agreed to this?'

'After much persuasion,' Sirius said sourly. 'I even made him swear an oath too.'

'Oh,' Harry was silent for a while. 'I think I want to be an Auror.' He finally said, making Moody grin maniacally.

'How about we talk about your career plans later on?' Sirius replied mildly. 'Right now, I trust you have your things packed?' Seeing Harry nod, he continued. 'Good. Mipsy!' The house-elf appeared with a crack. 'Please collect Harry's trunk from his dorm and send it to his new room.' As the elf disappeared, Sirius turned to his son. 'Meet me at the gates after dinner.'

Seeing the hesitant look on Harry's face, Sirius raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

'Well,' Harry started hesitantly. 'It's just that … they promised a party in the Gryffindor Tower tonight…'

'I see,' Sirius said. 'And what has Professor McGonagall said about this?'

'I say that it is fine,' the aforementioned teacher broke in from behind them. 'Mr Potter, congratulations again on doing so well on the first task. I am sure that your dorm mates are going to be missing your presence in the fourth year dorm, but know that your bed will still be there, should you feel the need to go back to being a boarder. As for the party that I am sure will be held in your honour, like I said before, I have no qualms about you attending.

'However,' the teacher broke in before Harry could cheer. 'I shall be there to collect you at ten. That is anyway the longest that I am going to allow the party. You do have school tomorrow.'

'I'll be waiting outside the gates to collect him, Professor,' Sirius promptly promised.

'Thanks, dad, Professor!' Harry said gratefully.

Sirius chuckled. 'You deserve it, kid. Just make sure that you don't touch the hard stuff. I know what goes on in those parties.' With another smile, he clapped his son on his shoulder, being much gentler than Moody. 'Now go and enjoy yourself!' With a smile he watched as the boy headed off towards the castle.

'Oh, and Harry?' When the boy turned around, Sirius continued. 'You were great out there. I am proud of you.'

Harry's smile was enough to light up the darkest night. 'Thanks, dad,' he said softly. And with that, he shot off towards the castle, easily catching up with Neville.

* * *

><p>Hermione watched from a corner of the Gryffindor common room as her best friend was swarmed by various well-wishers and hangers-on.<p>

Well, former best friend, she supposed. She wasn't sure if he was willing to talk to her after the deplorable way she and Ron had treated him in the past few weeks.

She still couldn't believe that she had treated him in such a way. Looking back on it, she figured that it had started all the way at the beginning of the term.

While she knew of some of the changes Harry had gone through in the brief time she had met him during the summer (and she wasn't only talking about the physical changes) she still was unprepared for the full extent of his vicissitudes and was quite taken by surprise with the same when they became apparent.

For one, he was now one of the few to get a spell right the first time. He had also started doing his homework on time, making sure to put in extra effort. But what truly surprised her was the fact that he had not once asked for her help, and if he did, it was only to clarify small facts here and there.

Initially, she had thought them to be positive changes. But when she asked him about it, and he had told her about having a lot of practise over the summer, she changed her opinion. She had, quite rightly in her belief, accused him of cheating and having an unfair advantage.

But before she could start on her passionate discourse on how the purebloods and the government discriminated against the Muggleborns, Harry interrupted her with a rebuttal that was so sound in logic that she had no valid answer, leaving her, for the first time, utterly speechless (much to Ron Weasley's never-ending amusement).

It was this issue, coupled with the argument they had earlier in the Welcoming Feast about house-elf rights that had Hermione convinced that Sirius was not influencing Harry in a good way. The prisoner of Azkaban was slowly but surely turning Harry into a Pureblood … just like Malfoy.

When she shared her view with Harry, the boy had become angry with her and had not spoken to her for the rest of the day. And then the very next day, the Goblet had spit out his name.

Hermione had been convinced that Sirius had been behind this. She had heard stories from various sources over the summer to know that Sirius was a bit of a braggart and arrogant in his time. She also knew for a fact that Sirius had a bit of a grudge against Professor Dumbledore, and would thus use this as a way to get back at the headmaster. After all, he had created quite a bit of trouble for the Supreme Mugwump within the international magical community. Hence she was unwilling to believe Harry's claims.

She had even been happy at the school's reaction to Harry's name coming out. Perhaps, she thought, this would make Sirius stop his senseless pursuit of revenge. It might also get Harry to stop idolising Sirius so much.

Hermione also couldn't help but feel smug when the teachers soon started pulling Harry up for not doing his homework on time and barely paying attention. Maybe now that he no longer had her help, he would understand just what he had lost. Maybe he would also realise that cheating does not help one get good marks. It was a hard lesson, but it was for his own good.

Ron had his own issues of petty jealousy (something that she thoroughly disapproved of – he was _so_ childish) but the end result was that neither of them were willing to speak to Harry.

Of course, that was before Professor Dumbledore had set the record straight, so to speak. After that day, Hermione could not believe that she had been so uncharitable towards her friend or for that matter, his adoptive father.

Yet, neither she nor Ron had gone to patch things up with Harry.

Well, she would have to fix it. Ron may be too proud, but she wasn't. Besides, she had the sneaking suspicion that the ginger was waiting for her cue.

Mustering up her courage, she got up from her chair and approached the dark haired boy. As she moved towards them, she could overhear their conversation. She mentally sniffed at the topic. Heavy metal was something she hoped had not caught on in the wizarding world. It was more noise than actual music. She, like Ron (and other sane people) preferred bands like The Weird Sisters.

'Harry,' she began tentatively. 'Can we talk?' She had noticed out of the corner of her eye that Ron was standing behind her, no doubt having followed her like a sort of puppy.

It was only because of the blood adoption that he had gone through that Harry could pull off the rather haughty look he sent her way.

'Very well,' he said after a long moment, getting to his feet.

Hermione followed him nervously. A part of her wondered how he had managed to lend elegance to the very action of getting up and walking and since when that had happened. Was Sirius Black this graceful at that age, or was it James Potter?

'Well?' Harry finally said, indolently leaning against the wall halfway in the passage that led towards the boys' dormitory and facing the two of them, his arms crossed in a nonchalant manner.

It was Ron who first spoke. 'Harry,' he said, very seriously, 'whoever put your name in that goblet — I — I reckon they're trying to do you in!'

Harry looked at Ron with a disbelieving expression on his face. 'Caught on, have you? Well, it took you two long enough.' He sneered.

He watched the two of them. Hermione was looking nervously between him and Ron, obviously waiting for the ginger to speak up. Ron, on the other hand, was working his mouth up and down, no doubt thinking of something to say.

Getting impatient, Hermione spoke up. 'Harry, we want to apologise for not believing you and ignoring you for the past few weeks. Can you please forgive us so we can be friends again?' she ended hopefully.

Harry looked at her for a long moment. 'That's it?' he asked, a tinge of incredulity in his voice. Unable to help it, he let out a dry chuckle. 'You two are the absolute limit. I mean, really?' His expression turned ugly and his posture lost the lazy air as the anger, betrayal and resentment he had felt the past few weeks started to come out. 'Susan Bones, a person who I barely spoke to until a few weeks back came and apologised to me after the assembly. Most of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, people who I barely talk to, apologised to me for thinking what they did and the badges. And you know what? I could forgive them. After all, they do not know me. But the two people who have known me for more than three _years_?' he snorted. 'I honestly don't know what I find more insulting: The fact that you didn't believe me or the fact that you took this long to tender an apology when relative strangers have done so before you. I mean _Neville_ believed me when I said that I hadn't put my name in. And he has no reason to do so!'

Whirling on Hermione he continued, his voice bitter. 'I fucking saved your arse from that troll in first year. If it wasn't for me dragging Ron over here to find you, the troll probably would have decorated the walls of that bathroom with your brains. And as for you,' he turned to Ron. 'I risked life and limb to save your sister when she decided to make friends with the most evil dark lord in recent times. I was there when you needed me. Every. Single. Time. Where the fuck were the two of you when I needed you?'

Turning back to Hermione, he continued heatedly. 'And if you think that not believing me and not talking to me is all you have to apologise for, then you are completely and utterly wrong, _Hermione_.'

'What do you –?'

Harry interrupted her. 'You think that I haven't noticed the smug looks you have been sending me the past few days?' he was deeply hurt at the way the girl seemed to take pleasure at the stress that he had been undergoing. 'Or how about those dirty looks you have been sending me every time I get a spell right? Or maybe how about the way you keep criticizing my dad?'

'James Potter is your dad,' Ron blurted out.

Harry closed his eyes. 'Yes, Ron, I know that.' He said quietly, 'Sirius Black is not my biological father, he is my stepfather. My biological father is dead, thank you very much for pointing that out!' His tone had turned scathing at that point.

His voice steadily rising, he continued. 'Yeah, I don't have real parents, they are dead, and I am an orphan. There, you happy? You have something I will never have.' Breathing hard, he broke off, staring at the wall. He really felt like hitting Ron right now.

Ron, on the other hand, looked stricken. 'I –'

'Sirius is far better than a real father,' Harry said roughly, interrupting the ginger before he could even begin his apology. Glaring at him (for glaring was the only way he could stop the tears from showing) he continued. 'He took me in and adopted me, made me his son out of his own choice. It only proves that he loves me more.'

'Harry, I –'

'I think I have had enough of this party, it is getting late anyway, and we have school tomorrow.' Harry said in a deceptively light voice. Roughly brushing past the two, he started walking woodenly towards the common room.

'Well, this is brilliant,' he said sardonically upon encountering most of Gryffindor house outside, obviously eavesdropping. 'Excuse me,' saying that, he started brushing past, the expression on his face was more than enough to clear his path.

'Erm, Harry,' Hermione timidly pointed out. 'You are going away from the dorm.'

Noticeably stiffening, Harry spoke without turning around. 'If you had bothered to talk to me a few days back, _Granger,_ then you would know that as of today, I am a member of Town House. Ergo, I am now no longer a boarder, but a dayboy. Hence, I am now headed _home_, to my _adoptive father_.' Spitting the last two words out, he fairly stomped towards the entrance. Stopping there he turned around for a last parting shot. 'You should be happy, eh, Ron? After all, a few short days back you did say that you did not want to be in the same room as a "cheater". Well, you got your wish. Fuck you, Weasley.'

Having said that, Harry flung open the portrait with all the fury he possessed, much to the occupant's vocal protest. Not in the mood to listen to her, he just slammed the portrait closed and headed towards Professor McGonagall's office. He supposed that she would be happy that he planned on turning in early.

Speaking of which…

'Potter,' the aforementioned Professor said in surprise, nearly running into him. 'I was about to fetch you.'

'Well, professor, I've had a long day.' Harry managed to say in a normal tone of voice. He faked a yawn for effect.

If she had noticed signs of distress in her student, Professor McGonagall did not comment on it. With a brisk, 'Very well,' she led him out towards the grounds.

At the Entrance Hall, they ran into a lanky brown haired boy coming out from the basement.

'Mr Trevallion,' Professor McGonagall called. 'Headed home, are we?'

The boy gave a start and turned around. 'Oh, yes, professor,' he said. 'I got permission from Professor Sprout to attend the celebrations in the common room because of Cedric's performance in the tournament.'

Professor McGonagall stared at him, hawk-like. 'Yes, Pomona did tell me that. Well, come on, I am on my way to the front gates myself with Potter. You might as well join us.'

Trevallion shrugged and fell in step with Harry as they followed the transfiguration teacher down to the front gates.

'I did not know you were a dayboy,' the older boy asked Harry in a low voice.

'Just became one today,' Harry replied shortly.

'Oh yeah, I cannot believe I forgot about that! The town was quite abuzz with Sirius Black moving in and all. Apparently the previous tenant did not pay his bills or something.' He looked at Harry enquiringly.

Harry just shrugged. 'I guess,' he replied succinctly. His mind was still on the confrontation with his former friends. Ron's words kept playing in his head over and over in an endless loop. He seriously wanted to punch something.

The other boy, however, was not fazed. 'Andrew Trevallion,' he said, sticking his hand out.

'Harry Potter-Black,' Harry replied automatically, shaking the offered hand.

'Cedric told us about how you told him what the first task would be. He was quite impressed with your sense of fair play. Most of Hufflepuff is quite impressed as well.'

Effectively jolted out of his black mood, Harry looked at the other boy in surprise. 'Huh?'

'Yeah,' the older boy replied. 'And I have to say, that was some wicked flying out there; nothing short of brilliant! Even Krum hadn't thought of that!'

'Uh, thanks,' Harry said genuinely, slowly warming up to the Hufflepuff.

The Hufflepuff shrugged. 'It is fine, Cedric's my best mate. If he says you're alright, then you are alright.' He said simply

Any further conversation was stopped as they had reached the gates. Harry spotted Sirius standing outside in wait.

Sirius peered at Harry's companion. 'Aren't you the kid that lives two houses down the street?' he asked.

'Yes sir. My name is Andrew Trevallion,' the boy introduced himself.

'Pleased to meet you,'

The three of them headed together towards their respective homes.

'Well,' Sirius said after Trevallion had left for his house. 'Home sweet home, I guess.'

Harry looked at the modest two storey house. 'Yeah,' was the only thing he could think of saying.

After a brief tour around the house, Sirius showed Harry his room, which was almost like his old room in Grimmauld Place (Sirius had thoughtfully replicated all the posters and decorations Harry had put up in his old room) only a bit smaller. Wishing him a good night, Sirius retired for the night.

* * *

><p>The next day marked the start of Harry's new routine. After having breakfast, he would meet Andrew outside the house, his schoolbag and broom in hand. They would then fly over to Hogwarts (something that Harry loved doing). According to Harry's new acquaintance, there were four other students who lived in Hogsmeade, but they stayed a bit further away and were either in second year or younger and quite a tight knit group, choosing to travel together with one of their mums or dads by broom. This effectively meant that until Harry came along, Andrew had no company.<p>

After prep was done with in the evening, the two of them would walk back home since their parents had strictly forbidden them from flying in the dark.

On Saturdays Harry would spend some time with Neville and his other newfound friends. He would come home for lunch after which he would spend the rest of the day either completing any remaining homework or learning about his finances.

Sundays would be spent fully with Sirius. They would spend the day mainly relaxing, ending with a night out somewhere for dinner.

Being the only dayboy in Gryffindor also meant that Harry constantly got requests for sweets and other such things from the village as he was the only one allowed to go into Hogsmeade for all seven days. Harry didn't mind too much ... as long as they supplied the money and the demands weren't too unreasonable. It did ratchet his already high popularity up by a decent amount.

With the first task behind him, the badges gone and no more trouble from the press, Harry was beginning to enjoy his time at Hogwarts again. Even Draco Malfoy had stopped sending out snide comments, electing instead to glare resentfully and threateningly at Harry every time they met.

Not that Harry was concerned. He was constantly surrounded by a crowd of people during the day, and he was at home by the time dinner was served at Hogwarts. Even if the ferret (he still had to thank Moody for that neat bit of transfiguration) did get him alone, Harry was sure he could take him on. The incident outside the Potions classroom was proof enough. On top of that, Sirius had been teaching him quite a few neat spells as well as duelling.

As for Ron and Hermione … well, Harry found it quite easy to ignore the two of them. After all, it was a big castle, and he was there only during the daytime. They had not attempted to contact him, and he hadn't bothered speaking to them either. He still felt a visceral anger every time he saw Ron's face. The ginger had _no _right to decide who he called dad.

The one thing that dampened the good times was announced after transfiguration.

'Dancing? She wants me to dance? And that too with a girl!' Harry fairly exploded in greeting as he entered the house.

'And a hello to you too,' Sirius replied with a bemused smile.

'McGonagall has gone 'round the twist!' Harry said dramatically as he put his bag down. 'She actually expects me to open the Yule Ball.'

'How is that a problem?' Sirius asked mildly.

Harry looked at him incredulously. 'I can't dance!'

'Oh, relax! It's simple, really. All you have to do is feel the flow of the music.' Sirius replied glibly. 'And not step on your date's feet.' He added.

Seeing the dirty look being sent his way, Sirius said, 'I'm joking. I'll teach you a few steps. It isn't the end of the world.'

'I have to ask a girl out.' Harry whispered to himself, a look of dread on his features.

'That is generally the custom, yes. Unless you, uh, prefer blokes,' Sirius added with a mischievous smile.

Harry responded with another withering look. 'Not cool,' he said.

'Come on, Harry, relax.' Sirius said, putting a companionable arm around his son's shoulders. 'They _are_ human, you know. They aren't a different species. They aren't going to bite if you ask them. All you have to do is walk up to them and just ask. Chances are they understand English. If they don't, well, you know some French. Hopefully they will be charmed enough by that to not kill you for the atrocious accent and beginner grammar.' He winked to show that he was joking. 'Girls are very impressed by confidence, you know.'

'Besides,' he added. 'You don't really have to worry about asking a girl out.'

'What do you mean,' Harry asked.

'You are one of the Triwizard champions,' Sirius said with a smirk. 'Trust me, girls will be asking _you_ instead. They probably will fall all over themselves just to have you as a date.'

'"Falling all over themselves"?' Harry repeated with a slightly hunted look on his face.

'Oh yeah,' Sirius clapped Harry on his shoulder. 'All you have to do is say, "yes" to the fittest of the lot. In fact, don't commit straightaway. Just write down the names of those that ask you, put it up on a dartboard and let chance decide for you ... Unless, of course, you have someone you want to ask…'

'Well,' Harry said, blushing. 'There is this one girl.'

Harry had fully expected Sirius to tease him. But Sirius only asked neutrally. 'What's her name?'

'Cho, Cho Chang.'

Sirius whistled. 'Would it be that bird from Ravenclaw who plays Seeker?' Seeing Harry nod, he continued. 'Well, you might want to ask her out soon, mate. I have seen her, and well, she is quite fit. Someone will snap her up really quickly.'

'But how do I do it?'

Sirius just gave him a mildly exasperated look. 'Like I said, just ask her. She goes to Hogwarts and is British, so I am pretty sure she will understand English.'

'But, but she is always surrounded by her friends. Her _giggling_ friends.' Harry complained.

Sirius chuckled. 'Yes, girls always travel in packs. Here's another fact. If a girl wants to go to the loo, her friends _will_ tag along. So if you plan on ambushing Cho, well, you are out of luck. It is quite hard to catch a bird alone.'

'So what do I do?'

'Ask to talk to her in private?' Sirius spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry took a deep breath as if steeling himself for something. 'Yeah, I'll do that the minute I catch her tomorrow.' He said grimly.

Sirius only shook his head. 'Relax! Anyone would think you are going into battle. You faced a dragon, a basilisk and dementors. A girl shouldn't be a problem.'

'Speak for yourself.' Harry muttered under his breath.

* * *

><p>Harry did not say anything the next day after he came home. After dinner, Sirius could not stand it anymore and so asked. 'Well, did you ask her out yet?'<p>

'Yeah,' Harry said, picking at his sleeve.

'And?' Sirius dragged out the word.

'Well, she said "no". Apparently Cedric already asked her.'

Sirius winced. 'Well, that happens. All you can do is move on. After all, your father was turned down by your mother quite regularly.'

Harry looked up, interested. 'Really?' he asked eagerly.

'Well, yes. Lily hated James' guts for the first five years. It was only near the end of sixth year that she started liking him.'

'How did that happen?'

Sirius narrowed his eyes and playfully glared at Harry. 'Well, James finally deflated his head enough for Lily to find him acceptable. But that is another story for another time. Right now, I want to hear the rest of the story. I know you are hiding something, so, out with it!'

'Well,' Harry began slowly. 'After lunch, as I was exiting the Great Hall, I saw Katie Bell headed outside. Suddenly I was filled with this sort of confidence and so I followed her outside and asked her.'

'Katie Bell?' Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. 'Isn't she on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?'

'Yeah. She's a year older than me, and one of the few that believed me the first time around.'

'That's nice. So what happened then?

'She looked at me steadily for the longest time ever. I – somehow, I just knew that I had to look her in the eye, which I did. Then finally, she said yes.'

Sirius' eyebrows shot up. 'She did?'

'Yeah! I was really lucky that her friends weren't around at that time. Imagine how mortifying that would have been to just stand there with them just giggling away.'

'That is pretty lucky of you.' Sirius observed.

'I was quite surprised.' Harry rambled on. 'Only after Potions did it register that I was going out with Katie Bell.'

Sirius smiled. 'That's my boy,' he said with a chortle. 'You bagged one of the fittest girls in school. Well done! I can only imagine how the others in the school must be feeling.'

'Well, they don't really know.' Harry said craftily. 'At least I think nobody really knows since there haven't been any rumours running around off late. But it's only been a day since I asked her, anything could happen between now and the ball. And I am not saying anything till then!'

'Why not?' Sirius asked with surprise.

'Just,' Harry shrugged. 'Besides, imagine the look on their faces when they see who I am going out with.' He ended mischievously.

Sirius threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

><p>On the first day of the winter holidays, Harry and Sirius sat down with the golden egg. Neville, who had decided to accept Harry's invitation to stay for the day in the much quieter house (after getting permission), joined them.<p>

'Mermaids,' Sirius said thoughtfully after the egg was shut and the last of the awful shrieking had gone. Neville just nodded in reply.

Harry, whose ears were still ringing at the cacophony, looked at the two of them incredulously, 'How did you know that?'

'Well, Mermish music is quite beautiful to hear,' Harry interrupted with a snort. 'Once you are in the right medium, that being water. So it is quite popular among the gentry, as concert halls playing that music are quite pricey. I might take you to a concert. You will like it, I think. Anyway, a few decades back, someone had the bright idea that Mermish music would be better heard in its purest form. This started off a trend where people would play recordings of it in open air, and pretend to be cultured as they enjoyed the shrieking and wailing. Of course, this fad did not last long, but my mother was quite taken by it.' He shuddered in remembrance. 'She forced me and my brother to listen to it almost every day and learn the language. One of the worst memories of my life,' he said with a shudder. 'She only stopped by the time I was to go to Hogwarts. I think father might have gone and destroyed the music crystals. It was one of the few sane things he had done in his life.'

Sirius looked at the egg thoughtfully. 'One of the only good things about Azkaban is that thanks to the dementors, I kind of am competent in Mermish. I think it said something about taking something of value? I don't recall the rest, and frankly I don't want to hear that screeching anymore. So you will have to put the egg and your head underwater to decipher the words. It's easier that way.'

He extracted his wand and waved it, causing a deep trough to appear.

'Have at it,' he said brightly after filling it with water.

A few minutes later, Harry withdrew his head for the fifth time. Gasping for air, he sat back in his chair.

Sirius was happy to see his son take out his wand and mutter a drying charm. The boy was beginning to think like a wizard.

'Well, they are taking something of mine, something dear to me, and I have an hour to get it back before it is lost to me forever.' Harry said. 'I wonder what it is.'

'Well, if I understand the Tournament properly and their love for dramatics, then it probably will be a hostage.' Sirius said after a moment of thinking.

Harry took a moment to think about that. 'So that would be you,' he said in a small voice.

'Probably,' Sirius said. Mentally he told himself that he wouldn't participate. While he knew now from his sources that extensive security measures had been implemented (that knowledge would have gone a long way in helping his worries in the first task) he still wouldn't put it past Dumbledore or Crouch to do something to make sure that he had a little "accident". Of course, if a hostage died, or any other deaths were to occur, for that matter, the Ministry and the Minister in particular would face heavy criticism. From what he observed of Fudge, Sirius knew that the man would point a finger at Dumbledore at the earliest opportunity. So they may not do anything. Not that he was going to bet on that.

'Though, I think not. Something tells me that adults aren't going to be participating in this.' He said aloud

'But, I can't swim!' Harry said desperately.

'Of course you can!' Sirius said patiently. 'I taught you myself when we went to Black Island, remember?'

'Yes, but I don't believe that the pool there comes even close in comparison to that lake!' Harry replied, his voice slightly hysteric.

'Hey, you got the basics. All you need to do is find a way to breathe underwater.' Sirius said soothingly. 'And I have just the spell for that.'

'What's it called?'

'The Bubble-Head Charm, it's a sixth year spell, however. So it will be a bit tough, but nothing you can't handle. After all, you managed a corporeal Patronus last year!'

'Actually,' Neville, who had been sitting there unnoticed, spoke up quietly, gaining the attention the other occupants. 'Why not use Gillyweed? It's far simpler.'

Sirius became thoughtful. 'Yes,' he said. 'That is a simple approach, but quite unconventional. Mainly because of its availability. I have a feeling that the other champions will definitely use a Bubble-Head Charm, so you might get some points for originality. 'Good thinking, Neville.'

The boy blushed at the praise, a pleased expression on his face.

'What we will have to focus on is getting to your hostage and rescuing them well before the others. So speed is a necessity.' Sirius thought for a few more moments. 'So I think we should practise. Find out the shortest route to the village.'

Harry nodded. Now that there was a plan, he felt less nervous. Of course, there was the fact that another person's life (most probably his dad's) depended on him reaching in time. That worried him greatly. But he kept his peace for now.

'Of course, we can't practise _now_.' Sirius said with disappointment. 'The lake will be unforgivingly cold, if not fully frozen. No, we will have to begin in January. So we leave off for now. In the meantime, I will place a large order for Gillyweed. I know someone in Greece who could get it fresh.'

With that part out of the way, the winter holidays were spent doing homework, playing in the snow, and other such activities.

The one hiccup came about five days after the start of the winter holidays.

Ever since he had moved in, Harry had his eye on the motorcycle that Sirius had recovered from Hagrid. He had heard stories about what his adoptive and biological father had been up to when they were teenagers. He had also remembered the dreams (which he found out were repressed memories) of being carried on the same motorcycle as a baby.

Add in the coolness factor (it was a big black Royal Enfield Super Meteor) and it was only natural that he wanted to ride it.

In his earlier experimentations with the bike, Harry had somehow managed to figure out the gear combination. He had yet to turn the engine on, however.

Today, while Sirius was out doing Merlin knows what, Harry would finally do that.

The bike, stored with Sirius' car in the expanded storage shed was quite heavy to wheel out, but with some persistence, Harry managed. Once he was outside the door, Harry straddled the bike and turned the key, feeling the excitement.

But before he could do anything else, a hand suddenly came from behind, twisted the key and removed it.

Looking behind him, Harry gulped at seeing the stern look on his father's face.

'Off the bike please,' Sirius said evenly. Taking the handlebars, he quietly rolled the machine inside. Once he had it parked, he turned around. 'Did you just try and take the motorcycle out, without my permission, on a ride in the middle of _winter_?'

Gulping, Harry silently nodded.

'And have you had any prior training riding one of these?'

'Er, n-no,' Harry said hesitantly. 'But it can't be any different than riding a broom, and I was a natural at that!'

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sirius palmed his face. There were so many words that he wanted to use at that moment to get his opinion of the teenager's intelligence across.

'Really,' he finally said, in a voice heavy with sarcasm. 'Except that to ride a motorcycle, you need to be able to change the gears properly, have a good balance, be mindful of pedestrians, and since it's winter, _be aware of slippery roads_!' he finished sharply.

'Do you have any idea about the number of things that could have gone wrong had you taken that bike out?' Sirius continued lecturing. 'Considering what kind of bike this is, just using that kick-starter would have grievously injured you since you clearly don't know what to expect. And forget slipping and falling and then injuring yourself, you could have run into something or _someone_ and then seriously injured or _killed_ yourself or another person. You weren't even wearing a bloody helmet! And what's more, that bike hadn't been ridden for thirteen years! It isn't fixed, and for all I know, just starting the engine could have made it explode!'

Harry didn't say anything, finding his shoes rather interesting instead. He felt about two inches tall right now. To think that it had seemed like such a good idea about two minutes back.

'Right, up to your room with you,' Sirius finally said after taking a few deep breaths. 'Think about what I said and what you nearly did. I suggest choosing a corner to stand in while you do said thinking. I'll be up in a few minutes.'

Once Harry was gone, Sirius sighed. Taking out his wand, he cast a few more protection charms. Now the only way it would move was if Sirius himself was doing the moving.

While he had not verbally forbidden Harry from touching or riding any vehicle (and that thought made him start weaving the same enchantments around the car) Sirius had hoped that the boy would understand that he wasn't allowed to take them out without being told that.

With another sigh, Sirius headed upstairs to deal with the wayward child.

Minutes later, Sirius regarded Harry as the boy ambled into the kitchen rubbing his sore backside. While Harry was now composed, Sirius could still see some redness in his eyes.

Pulling him in for another hug, Sirius said, 'You know, all this could have been averted if you had only asked me to teach you how to ride the thing.'

Harry looked up in surprise. 'Really?' He asked incredulously.

'Well, I would have considered it.' Sirius amended. 'But if I had said yes, then I would have only taught you in the summer. Not that it would do you much good, mind. The only time I would allow you to take it out by yourself is after you turned eighteen. But that also depends.'

'Oh,' Harry paused for a moment. 'Will you teach me then?' he asked hopefully.

'Yes you cheeky monkey.' Sirius said, tousling the boy's hair. 'But only in the summer, after that bike is fixed.'

'I don't think I would be able to sit properly till then anyway,' Harry said with another empathic rub, looking at Sirius with sad eyes, clearly trying to get his father to feel guilty.

Sirius snorted. 'Oh please, I only gave you twelve with the ruler. That is much lesser than the last time. If you think that's bad, wait until you feel the cane.'

Harry blushed momentarily. 'So, can I at least help you in fixing it?' he said quickly, trying to change the subject.

'All right,' Sirius said after a long moment of thought. He could teach the boy more magic, and it would give them some time to bond. 'But,' he said sternly. 'It can be quite dangerous. So _no_ goofing around, or you _will _feel that cane.'

Harry gulped. 'Yes sir,' he said solemnly.

'Good, we shall start tomorrow.'

The next morning, Sirius wheeled the bike out in the middle of the magically enlarged shed.

'Now this,' Sirius said as he set the bike on its centre stand. 'Is a Royal Enfield Super Meteor. Made in ninety fifty two, it was one of the last motorcycles ever made by the company on British soil. I got this one off an American Muggle chap about a year before you were born. It was in surprisingly good condition then.' Sirius looked at the bike wistfully.

'Anyway,' he said, coming back to the present. 'I changed only the colour. I kept the other modifications, such as the handlebars that are angled back and the elongated body and customised tank. But I have put in some magical modifications.'

He then pointed out and explained the different parts of the bike, making sure that Harry knew them well.

'Now the magical modifications,' Sirius said once he was done. 'I put in a runic array for a refilling charm on the petrol tank to ensure that I never have to stop to fill up. Now those I am sure are intact so it shouldn't be a problem. The brakes, on the other hand need looking into. I don't know if the charms I have applied on those still work or not.

'Additionally, I put in a magical device to start the engine with this button here.' Sirius pointed at a small black button. 'That is partly for convenience's sake and partly because using the kick starter is quite hazardous.'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked in confusion.

'Well, this thing is a right monster,' Sirius said. 'It's quite easy to break your leg using the kick starter. I should know … it happened to me. I had accidentally left it in gear when doing that. That made the bike lurch forward violently. Between you and me, I didn't know what was worse; breaking my leg, or having Lily lecture me for half an hour while she fixed it.'

'Anyway, riding it is another matter. The bloody thing accelerates like a rabbit and kicks like a mule, so you would have to watch how you change your gears. But we'll talk about that when we get to actually riding it.

'Now once we are done checking the engine, the brake lines, the fuel lines and the charms, we will have to check on the enchantment that makes it fly.' Sirius stated.

And then they got started. In the next few days, Harry learnt a lot about Muggle motorcycles and their parts. But most importantly, was his magical education. He had learnt enough about runes to seriously consider taking that subject, and a lot about enchantments, a subject that would only be touched on briefly by Flitwick in N.E.W.T. level charms.

Sirius was quite impressed at the enthusiasm displayed by Harry. He decided to hold off on working on the Lamborghini till the summer. He would do that with his son. Besides, it would teach the boy more.

Not having forgotten his promise, Sirius was sure to teach the teen a few simple dances. These, he explained would be enough to do in a pinch. If the boy wanted more, then they would have to hire a professional. Sirius himself wasn't great at dancing.

* * *

><p>On the night of the ball, Sirius looked at Harry as the boy descended the stairs, looking conscious in his new bottle green dress robes. He was followed by Neville who looked just as nervous.<p>

Smiling, Sirius directed them to sit at the dining table. Taking a seat himself, he spoke up. 'Well, gentlemen, I believe that this is the first formal party the two of you will be attending without much adult supervision.'

Sirius' lips twitched as both boys nodded in unison, seeming to get even more nervous.

'Anyway, before you two head out, there is one matter that I feel needs to be discussed. Neville, I have spoken to your grandmother beforehand, and she has agreed wholeheartedly to me handling this matter.'

Hearing this, Neville blanched. He was sure that he wasn't going to like this.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius continued. 'Well, boys, you are slowly growing into men now. You have already entered puberty, and I am sure that you have noticed the various changes in your body. For example, I think you have noticed that hair has started to grow in certain … places…'

'Daaaaad,' Harry whinged, mortified. He could not believe that Sirius was having this conversation now, that too in front of his friend! Neville, on the other hand, was too terrified to even squeak.

'Oh stop whinging,' Sirius said irritably. 'That is quite natural you know. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, hair. Now, one major part of these changes on your growing bodies is something that I am confident that you haven't noticed.' He paused for a moment to see if he was going to be interrupted again. Satisfied that he could continue, he picked up his wand and said. 'And that happens to be your body odour. No matter how many times you boys have a bath it won't take long before people can smell you from a mile away. So, on that note, take out your wands. I am about to teach you a Deodorising Spell. It helps take the smell off for roughly an hour. Its primary use is in hunting, so that the quarry doesn't smell you, but it will do here. While you won't smell like roses, you won't offend people's olfactory senses. And with a beautiful girl in your arms, it is probably a good thing that you don't smell.'

Letting out a breath of relief, Harry and Neville took out their wands.

Once they had properly applied the charm, they turned to leave. 'Thanks, dad.' Harry said as Neville interjected with a 'Thanks, Mr Black.'

'You had us scared there for a moment.' Harry continued. 'We actually thought you were going to give us the "little wizard's talk"'

Sirius thought about what he had said and let out a bark of laughter. 'Well, I can see your point. That would have been quite awkward, no?'

Sirius waited till both of them had stepped into the carriage that he had hired to take them to Hogwarts and transport them back after the party ended. 'Now you two have fun, and make sure to treat your dates right. Remember the saying, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".' Getting nods, he stepped back.

'And one other thing,' he said getting their attention. 'That talk is going to be happening in the summer after you both turn fifteen! And don't worry, I have diagrams.' Cackling madly, he disappeared into the house, waving at Trevallion who was approaching the carriage that now contained two very worried boys.

* * *

><p>Harry had quite a good time at the ball. Nobody knew about his partner till the very last moment when the champions had to stand on either side of the entrance to the Great Hall.<p>

Harry wasn't the only one keeping secrets it seemed. Hermione had kept the fact that Krum had asked her to the ball a secret from the school as well. Harry absently noted that she looked quite beautiful in her blue dress robes with her hair done up and everything.

He pretended that he did not notice the forlorn looks she was sending him. He was still too angry at her. Though, he couldn't help the smug grin that graced his face. He was currently enjoying giving her serious competition, sometimes outperforming her at every class. While he wasn't as good with the theory as she was, he still got the spells down faster.

Harry couldn't help but smirk at the look on Ron's face when he saw who Harry and Viktor Krum had next to them. Somehow, he had a feeling that Ron and Hermione were soon going to have a major row about this. He idly wondered how long it would take before Ron blew up at her.

Padma, who Ron had somehow miraculously had as a partner, did not look too happy to be with him. Harry supposed that the dress robes the ginger was wearing had something to do with it.

Not that he cared.

Harry found himself seated next to Dumbledore and directly opposite Fleur who was with a very smitten Roger Davis. The French part veela was quite proud of her school. Though "proud" would be a nice word for it. A surreptitious glance around the table showed that all the members of the host school weren't happy about her putting Hogwarts down like that. Cho and Hermione especially were giving Fleur scathing looks.

Had this happened the previous year, Harry would have been quite content at holding his peace. However, that was before Sirius had rubbed off on him.

And so, instead of keeping quiet, Harry interrupted her description of Beauxbatons, a wicked comeback mentally prepared. 'That is quite interesting. The idea of Wood Nymphs serenading you as you eat sounds quite lovely.' He paused for a moment before continuing, politely. 'Do tell me more about the Great Hall. The interiors do sound impressive.' Unconsciously, he adopted the same intense pose Sirius used when pretending to give someone his full attention.

Harry ignored Cedric's wondering look as he concentrated on Fleur's face. Fleur, who sounded quite delighted at having an actively participating conversation, continued talking about the interior of great hall. 'Ze Great 'all is 'uge. Eet is bigger than zis.' She waved her hand around the Hogwarts Great Hall imperiously.

'I see,' Harry said neutrally. 'Is the ceiling as high as this one?'

'No, eet is 'uge. Much beegger zan zis one. Zere are carvings of important moments of wizarding French 'istory put zere.'

'Oh.' Harry paused to take a thoughtful bite of his dish. Swallowing, he continued. 'So, it's just a normal ceiling? I thought there would be some enchantment there. You know, like how ours is enchanted to look like the sky outside.' He finished innocently.

Fleur sniffed haughtily. 'I find zat to be too drab. 'Oo wants to eat under ze sky? You go outside for zat.'

Harry shrugged. 'You might have a point. After all, this enchantment has been around for ages now. I believe that Rowena Ravenclaw herself put it up when she and the others founded the school.' Looking at Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore he said. 'Isn't that about a thousand years ago, Professor?'

'One thousand and ninety five years to be precise, Mr Potter.' Professor Dumbledore replied with a twitch of his lips.

'Ah. Well that is a long time, indeed.' Harry replied. 'And it hasn't faded till now. In fact, it even mimics snowfall and rain! Only the snow and rain is dry, of course. It's quite fascinating, isn't it, Cedric?' Getting an approving nod, he turned back to Fleur. 'Of course, it isn't anything as grand as Beauxbatons. Why, your description of your Great Hall reminds me of the dining hall I saw during my summer holidays when I went to Buckingham Palace with my dad! Simply marvellous.'

Cedric coughed while Krum smirked infinitesimally at Harry's comment.

But Harry wasn't done yet. 'I don't suppose Beauxbatons has any secret passages, trick staircases or this weird feeling that the building is actually alive.' He gave a sigh. 'The school sounds very enchanting. And it's so modern! A whole three hundred years younger than this ramshackle old building with its millennium of history and powerful ancient wards and enchantments. This school is so old!' he said with exaggerated disgust. 'I mean, _Merlin_ attended this school, that's how old it is. Who would want to be in such a draughty old castle when one could be in a bright sunny modern palace?'

Harry could have sworn that he saw a brief smile flash across Professor Dumbledore's face as Professor McGonagall's lips twitched.

Fleur, on the other hand, looked murderous.

'Zank you for your kind words, Meester Potter.' Madam Maxime interjected with a graceful bow of her magnificent head, neatly stopping any argument from forming. She surreptitiously sent a warning look at her champion, causing Fleur to subside.

'Should you wish to visit our school over ze summer, please, owl me. I will be delighted to show you and your fazzer around.'

'That was masterfully done, Harry.' Katie said as they danced much later. 'The way you subtly rubbed our history, magical strength and ingenuity in that frog's face all the while sounding as if you were degrading our school.'

Harry smiled. 'Thanks! That was the first time I did something like that. Did you catch the comparison I made to a Muggle palace?'

'So did most of the table. Did you see Crouch? He was grinning like mad! It was quite scary.'

'No, but I did see Professor Dumbledore's beard twitch. Though Madam Maxime did not look happy about it.'

'Yeah, she looked like she was going to step on you.'

Harry snorted. 'It was good fun though,' he said.

'Really? Well, then you'll find politics good fun. You should consider a career there.'

* * *

><p>As the last syllable of the ritual died out, a manic grin lit up on the man's gaunt face as he watched the magic interact with the artefact. It had taken a long time to source the ingredients, as many of them were quite rare, but he had finally managed. Taking out a recording quill, he proceeded to the next step of the plan that had formed within his head when he had first found out what the artefact was.<p>

* * *

><p>'Harry! Neville! Had a good night?'<p>

The boys in question looked around to spot Sirius sitting up in an armchair near the fireplace.

'Yes sir,' Harry answered, smiling happily even if he was a bit tired.

Harry waited till Neville had gone upstairs before speaking. 'Rough night?' He asked in concern. The wan expression on his stepfather's face had not escaped his notice. At the beginning when he had first come to stay with Sirius, he noticed that the unjustly incarcerated man used to have that same expression. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that it was mainly due to nightmares induced by his extended stay in that hellhole.

'Oh, nothing like that,' Sirius said with a yawn. 'Just been working really late,' he smiled reassuringly at Harry.

'OK, if you say so.' Harry said uncertainly.

'I'm fine,' Sirius said, getting up and briefly hugging the boy to him. 'Just tired. I haven't had any nightmares for nearly a month now. Now, off to bed with you. We'll talk tomorrow.' Giving Harry a playful swat, he sent the boy off to his room.

* * *

><p>Late next morning, the three of them were seated at the dining table. 'You know,' said Harry. 'I don't think I want to go to Beauxbatons. For one, I don't want to end up being a stuck-up prat like they are.'<p>

'What do you mean?' Sirius asked mildly.

Harry snorted. 'You should hear them speak about their bloody school and their country and their food. I mean, really, who criticises their host in their host's own home? The number of times I have heard them go on and on and on about their bloody school.' Doing a crude imitation of a French accent in a high pitched voice, he continued. 'Oooh, look at moi! My name is _Flour_ and I am Franch.' Putting on a look of exaggerated disgust, he looked at his food. 'Zis Eenglish food is zo fatty and 'eavy.' Tossing his moderately long hair in an accurate impression of the Beauxbatons Champion, Harry said haughtily. 'Ze weazzer is zo cold and ze castle is zo zmall and booreeng. You should zee Beauxbatons! Eet is beautiful and elegant. Not like zis stoopid Eenglish School. Wood nymphs serenade us while we eat, and unicorns prance about in our grounds and seeng our names because we are Franch and zo zophisticated.' He flipped his hand effeminately.

Sirius looked on in bemusement while Neville laughed helplessly.

'I am sure that not all of Beauxbatons is like that,' Sirius said diplomatically.

'Maybe,' Harry replied in a normal voice. 'But if the champion herself acts like that in public without the headmistress saying anything, one has to wonder about the rest of the school. If it wasn't for me, Fleur would have got away with her remarks!' Seeing the questioning look on Sirius' face, he described what he said at the champion's table at dinner.

Sirius nodded approvingly. 'You might have a point, Harry. Though, perhaps the headmistress was planning on upbraiding her student in private. Maybe your response had her revaluate her decision and speak up in public.'

'I guess,' Harry conceded.

The remaining days of the winter holiday passed by quietly. To make up for the rather low key affair that was their first Christmas together, Sirius had bought tickets to a _Pendragon_ concert_._ Sirius had introduced Harry to what he called "real music" over the summer, and this was one band that the boy really liked.

When the lake had thawed and the days had become relatively warmer, Harry started exploring the lake that was to be the venue of the next task. He was certain to do it as discreetly as possible. After all, he did not want the other champions to see his strategy.

* * *

><p><strong>Act III Scene III<strong>

* * *

><p>All too soon, it was February and Sirius was taking his seat at the stands set up at the lake bank with the other governors.<p>

Soon the champions were lined up side by side. Sirius gave an encouraging smile to Harry when he met the boy's eye, getting a nervous smile in return.

Once Bagman was done with his spiel, the cannon went off.

The audience gave out gasps of appreciation and awe as the water of the lake became magically clear to those sitting in the stands. It was like looking into a large bowl filled with liquid glass. Zooming in with his Omnioculars, Sirius could see the hostages tied at the centre of the village.

Immediately, Diggory, Delacour and Krum started wading into the lake before diving into what to them was murky water. The audience saw as Diggory and Delacour cast Bubble-Head Charms while Krum performed an impressive feat of partial transfiguration and gave himself a shark's head.

Harry, in the meantime, raised his wand and shouted, 'Accio.'

'And our youngest champion has opted to cast a Summoning Charm. Well, Mr Potter, there is no way you can fly out of this one!' Bagman's loud voice cut through the air eliciting a few laughs.

Suddenly, one of the boats used to transport the First-Years materialised, gliding to a stop in front of Harry.

Kicking off his shoes, Harry clambered onto the boat barefoot. Once he was inside, he tapped the side of the boat and cast the propulsion charm.

Sirius was proud of the plan that Harry had come up with. Instead of swimming all the way there and running into all sorts of obstacles, Harry had the bright idea to drop in on the Mermish village from above.

Since there wasn't anything in the rules of the Tournament forbidding this, Harry dove into the lake one cool day at the end of January, with the help of Gillyweed. He located the village where he had a hunch the hostages would be. Once he reached that area, he marked the position from the surface.

He then looked up a few other charms, mainly the propulsion charm that he remembered Hagrid using to get them across from the rock on the sea to mainland.

Sirius watched along with the rest of the spectators as Harry's boat glided across the lake. He, along with the rest, were mesmerised by the stunning effect of the vessel moving through what looked like liquid glass as the other champions and various aquatic fauna moved underneath. Sirius was glad that this was being recorded from the stands as it had been done with the first task. Harry would definitely be interested in seeing this.

Finally reaching his destination, Harry raised his wand and cast another Summoning Charm, calling for a rock from the shore.

Once that was done, Harry quickly removed his robe, revealing a pair of green swim trunks underneath. Conjuring a piece of rope, the youngest champion tied the rock to his waist and prepared to dive, Gillyweed in hand.

Just as the boy was about to take the plunge, the spectators noticed Fleur Delacour being besieged and shortly overwhelmed by a swarm of Grindylows. Unable to handle the water demons, the part veela was forced to surface, gaining the notice of the fourth champion as she took herself out of the race.

Sirius couldn't help but think that he should be worried at the way Harry was staring at the sobbing hysterical French girl as she was wrestled into the medical tent. Her plaintive cries for her little sister were heart-rending.

Seeming to shake out of it, Harry sat on the edge of the boat, popped the Gillyweed into his mouth and leaned backward.

Thanks to the extra weight, Harry dropped like a stone before the magical plant did its work. Once transformed, Harry kicked his now powerful flipper-like feet and powered down towards the lakebed.

Sirius watched with a sense of victory and pride. Thanks to thinking outside the box, Harry was the first one there.

But then he frowned. While Harry was quick to cut the chords tying Neville down, he did not make any move to leave with his hostage.

It was only when Cedric came along for his hostage, did Sirius realise why the boy had decided to stick around. Sirius groaned and put his head in his hands. Harry had taken the warning seriously. That silly, brave, child. He actually thought that the hostages would be forever lost if their rescuers did not reach them on time. He did not know whether he was proud or exasperated at this. After a moment's thought he decided that he definitely was proud.

Then again, Sirius couldn't exactly blame the boy. After all, Dumbledore and Barty Crouch were the driving forces behind the Tournament. They really couldn't be trusted.

Once Krum had spirited the Granger girl away, Harry swam towards the last hostage that was no doubt Fleur's little sister.

The Merpeople swam forwards to intercept the champion. They were quick to back off when they saw the wand being pointed at them. Sirius could only smile as he saw them scatter after Harry started counting off with his free hand, making his intentions very clear.

Once he was in the clear, Harry cut the chords, releasing the little girl from her bindings. Severing the rope tying him to the rock, he began to swim to the surface, dragging two hostages with him.

Listening to the reactions of the crowd and the comments made by Bagman, Sirius could tell that people were impressed by Harry's show of heroism. Going to rescue your hostages was one thing, but making sure that no one was left behind? That was something else.

Once he was near the surface, Harry dug into the pouch tied around his waist and ingested the counter to the Gillyweed, negating its effects. Once he was gill-free, he surfaced, joining the hostages.

* * *

><p>'Moral fibre … Not bad,' Sirius said later that evening.<p>

'Don't remind me,' Harry replied sourly. He was still sore about the whole incident. Now that he was on dry land, with the task well behind him, he realised that perhaps he shouldn't have taken that warning literally.

'Oh cheer up,' Sirius said brightly. 'At least the judges think it was worth full marks. Well, except for Karkaroff. But then, it really didn't matter anyway. You are in the lead! And the French champion is falling all over the hero that saved her little sister.'

Moaning, Harry threw his head back, covering his face with his hands to hide the blush. Fleur had undergone a complete character overhaul. From being a conceited, arrogant frog, she was now all over Harry. His cheeks still burned at the remembrance of her … enthusiastic gratitude.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the nine year old who he had "rescued". The moppet had clung onto him all the way to the lake shore, needing to be physically pried from him by the matron. Harry could only imagine her reaction when she found out his name. At least he had been able to pull on his robes and cast drying spells at himself and the girl before she had decided to impersonate a particularly hungry four-limbed octopus.

Neville had been a load of help. The blond had quite accommodatingly laughed his arse off all the way to the shore, and had sniggered for the rest of the day. Harry was sorely considering rewarding his friend's kindness by chucking him off the boat and making him swim to shore.

'Where were you anyway?' Harry suddenly asked Sirius. 'I looked all over for you afterwards, but couldn't find you.'

'Oh,' said Sirius. 'I had something I needed to retrieve.'

Harry looked at him for a long moment. 'What was it?'

Sirius smiled, 'Something rather important.' Seeing the look on Harry's face, he continued. 'I will tell you in due time. Just trust me for now, OK?'

Harry stared at him for a long moment before nodding. 'OK,' he said.

'Did you find out why I was entered into the Tournament and who did it?' Harry finally asked after several minutes of staring into the fire.

Sirius, who thought that his son had fallen asleep and was about to do the same jerked awake. 'Hm? No, no idea.' He replied.

Sitting up properly, he continued. 'I do know that Karkaroff is a Death Eater. He managed to escape Azkaban by squealing on his comrades, though, so I don't see him going back to Voldemort. And I am reliably certain that Pettigrew isn't involved, at least actively. I have been watching that map like a hawk, and nothing out of the ordinary has cropped up. Then again, I did start doing that only after you became a dayboy, so no one can tell if he was there in the school beforehand.

'So that leaves Karkaroff. And his behaviour isn't the type of behaviour I would expect of a man who had put your name in. After all, he was quite vehemently against your participation and was quite reluctant to give you marks. His behaviour does not fit the profile.'

'Speaking of which,' Harry mused out loud. 'Crouch confuses me. Both he and Bagman have been quite generous with their marking. And considering your history with the man, I kind of expected him to be strict about it. And Bagman actually offered me his help! Twice!'

Sirius looked at the ceiling in thought. 'Bagman's behaviour isn't alarming,' he finally said. 'I know for a fact that he tends to bet a lot. Rumour has it that he is in major debt with the goblins thanks to his gambling. I wouldn't put it past him to bet on you.

'As for Crouch…' Sirius shrugged. 'I think he might be trying to curry favour with me. Perhaps he thinks that I will get off his back if he gives you full marks. The man has tried many times to contact me, but I have rebuffed him at every turn. I do not want anything to do with him.' He said with a dark look that sent chills up Harry's back.

* * *

><p>The days leading up to the final task went by. Once Harry found out what the final task would be, Sirius upped the ante, making sure that Harry was comfortable using both wands and could do the spells in his sleep. He also went so far as to wake the boy up in the middle of the night on occasion to duel with the sleepy lad, working on his son's drawing, casting speed and alertness.<p>

Harry was also tasked with dual casting, a skill he showed a moderate aptitude in. However, that was in controlled conditions, Sirius knew that Harry's mettle would be tested in real battle.

Sirius also had Harry strap the penknife he had bought the boy to his ankle. It might come in useful.

On the last day before the third task, Sirius bought Harry a mokeskin pouch that could be attached to his waist.

'This is very rare,' Sirius explained as Harry looked at the furry pouch. 'The hide is such that if something were to be hidden in it, nobody but the owner could find it. I want you to keep your invisibility cloak in it.

'Thanks, dad,' Harry said.

* * *

><p><strong>Act III Scene IV<strong>

* * *

><p>As Harry approached the entrance of the maze that was grown on the Quidditch Pitch, the predominant thought that passed through him was, <em>it was soon going to be over<em>. He had made some new friends this year.

He had finally been able to forgive his two oldest friends, but things never would be the same between them. The camaraderie they shared was forever gone now. He also hated to say this, but he had started to grow apart from the two of them, preferring instead to socialise with Neville, Susan and other friends he had made over the past year.

Upon hearing Bagman's voice, Harry focussed on his current surroundings. He had a tournament to win. Briefly he had an image of the cup in his hands while people around him cheered. Then the cannon went off, and he was running into the magical maze.

The man moved around the exterior of the maze as fast as he could, disabling as many traps he could find along the way. The fake eye he had obtained from the person he was now impersonating helped him along. However, it wasn't so easy since he was not used to the technology, having real eyes of his own. He could see potential uses of this type of equipment, however. The Dark Lord would definitely be interested in studying and replicating this.

Once he was done disabling what traps he could, he went back to scan for the other champions. It was a good thing that the Potter brat was skilled and so had a head start. It would make slowing the rest down easy.

The stuck up French half-breed was the easiest to deal with. All he had to do was reactivate one of the obstacles while she was right in the middle of it.

The Durmstrang boy was a bit harder since he was quite vigilant. However, a well-placed Imperius Curse at the right moment while he was distracted was enough. It would also kill two birds with one stone, leaving the Potter boy the only person in the maze.

He knew, however, that he could not incapacitate all three champions. With them all gone, Potter wouldn't have to touch the cup to win. So after having the Bulgarian stun the Hogwarts champion, he would have the Imperiused Durmstrang champion wander around in circles.

He stood outside the wall nonchalantly, watching with his magical eye as Amos Diggory's brat fell to a silent stunner. It would have been much sweeter to have him writhing under the Cruciatus, but he controlled himself. It would not do to gain attention. Not at this time.

* * *

><p>Harry stood in front of the Triwizard Cup, panting. His journey through the maze hadn't been too tough, even if he had to deal with one of Hagrid's Skrewts (blasted thing was <em>huge<em>!) a sphinx, an acromantula and a myriad of other enchantments and spells.

Slowly, he limped towards the plinth. He had twisted his right ankle when dodging the acromantula when it had surprised him. In addition to that, he had a burn on his left shoulder thanks to the Skrewt. But on the whole, he wasn't feeling too bad. The task was quite easy compared to the previous two tasks!

Slowly, almost reverently, Harry's hand stretched out towards the cup. It hovered uncertainly for a long moment before his fingers closed around it.

Immediately, he felt a hook behind his navel and the next thing he knew, he was hurtling through a whirlwind of light and sound, his hand stuck on the cup's handle.

The Portkey (for he recognised it as a Portkey) slammed him onto the ground. Clutching his sprained ankle, Harry collapsed. He had only a millisecond to realise that he was in a graveyard when a flash of red light slammed into him.

* * *

><p>Harry woke up with a start a few minutes later to find himself tied to a headstone, a gag in his mouth. He struggled against his bindings, only to find them too tight. Whoever had tied him had done a good job. He stopped when he saw a figure placing a huge stone cauldron filled with an unidentifiable potion in front of him.<p>

'Hurry, Wormtail.'

Upon hearing the cold voice, Harry gave a start. The man was Peter Pettigrew! And he could remember that cold voice anywhere. It was Lord Voldemort. Just like in the dream that Harry had all those months ago last summer, the dark lord had a sort of body. Harry began struggling harder against his bindings. But it was no use. They were too tight.

Panic began to set in. Here he was, tied and helpless, unable to do anything while Wormtail and Voldemort did their … thing. Harry was certain that it was a ritual of sorts. And he had a good hunch as to what the purpose of the ritual was. Voldemort was going to be getting his body back.

Hearing his family's betrayer chant the first line confirmed his suspicions. Harry began to struggle harder.

He couldn't even call out for help. Not that there was anyone likely to be around here. He stilled suddenly when he noticed a large snake circling him and the cauldron.

'Flesh — of the servant — w-willingly given — you will — revive — your master.'

Knowing what Pettigrew was about to do, Harry shut his eyes. But he could not block the scream that pierced the night, which went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look … but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. …

It was at this moment that he realised one crucial thing. Pettigrew had not been able to find his wands! They were still there, snug against his arms. Carefully, he flexed his right ankle, working through the pain. The weight of the knife on the appendage told him that the knife hadn't been removed either.

Hardly daring to believe his luck, he pressed his back against the tombstone. The pouch was still there. Not that he expected it to be taken. After all, the hide ensured that Wormtail would not find it.

But before he could act on that, he felt Wormtail's fetid breath on his face.

'_B-blood of the enemy_ … _forcibly taken_ … _you will_ … _resurrect your foe._'

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. … Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, fumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

Harry realised now that he had no time left. He had to be quick. Not paying attention to what Wormtail was doing, he desperately visualised his knife flying into his palm as he shouted the incantation for the summoning charm through his gag.

Miraculously, it worked. Harry felt the knife slapping against his palm. Grasping the penknife, he flicked open the blade. Desperately, he began sawing against the rope.

The ropes, being magically conjured put up fierce resistance, making Harry's job difficult. Looking around, he noticed that Wormtail was too out of it to see what he was doing. So he doubled his efforts, giving no thought to discretion. However, he was too late. The last of the sparks had vanished and thick steam started billowing from the Cauldron. With a thrill of terror, Harry could see a shape rising. He froze in fear.

A tall figure emerged from the cauldron. With pale skin, long spider-like fingers, a face without a nose and lips, and burning hate filled red eyes; Voldemort was a terrible sight to behold.

Unable to think, Harry just stood there, his eyes wide open in dread. He watched mutely as Wormtail robed the evil wizard.

Examining his hands and body, Voldemort withdrew a wand from a pocket. Looking at it in distaste, he sneered at Wormtail. 'So, you haven't been able to find my wand? I thought you said that it would be there with the boy…'

'M – Master, I am s – sorry. I – I swear I thought that Black had taken it and given it to Potter. H – He must have changed his mind and handed it over to the Ministry.'

Harry's eyes widened even further. He had _Voldemort's_ wand in his possession? It explained why he felt a connexion to it. Now that he remembered what Ollivander had told him about his wand, it also explained why that wand worked so well with him. They were brother wands.

But those thoughts were driven from his mind when Voldemort started speaking. Harry listened to the first few words before he slowly started to saw away at the ropes binding him, ignoring the rest of what the Dark Lord had to say. After all, knowing that he was using a Bertha Jorkins' wand really wasn't going to help him. He could not work as fast as he wanted to as doing so would garner unwanted attention.

He was halfway there when the Death Eaters came. Harry was unable to help being distracted again as he listened to Voldemort identify each of the masked men and continue with his speech.

He was interrupted again when Voldemort turned his (and the other Death Eaters') attention to him. Stilling, he tuned into what the man was saying.

'His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice. … This is old magic, I should have remembered it. I was foolish to overlook it … but no matter. I can touch him now.'

Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and shivered. Voldemort looked at him and Harry could see a momentary look of disappointment across his face before the wizard stepped away.

It was then that he realised that his scar had not so much as given a twinge of pain. Now that he thought about it, his scar had not hurt him at all for the past year…

But that would have to wait for later. Harry renewed his efforts on his bindings. He was nearly there when Voldemort turned to him again and raised his wand.

His first dose of the Cruciatus curse slammed into his body, lighting every nerve of his body on fire. He screamed through his gag. His very bones were on fire; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end … to black out … to die …

And then it was over. Hanging limply against his bindings, he felt the last of the rope slowly give way. As awareness returned to him, he could feel the fingers of his hand painfully gripping his knife.

'Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.'

The rat faced man hesitated. 'I – I did not find it on him, master. I think it might have become lost in the graveyard.'

'Then,' Voldemort said slowly and dangerously as he turned to the snivelling coward. 'Find it, you fool!'

With a squeak, Pettigrew trotted off searching for a wand that wasn't there with Voldemort watching his every move like a predatory snake.

Seizing his chance, Harry cut through the last of the bindings. Looking at the circle around him, he saw an opening. The Death Eaters and their master were nicely distracted, and there was a big gap through which he could see the gleaming cup.

Not wasting much time, Harry burst from the tombstone towards the cup. His movement was so unexpected that the Death Eaters and Voldemort could only watch as he slipped past the gap between Avery and Macnair. The cup was his only hope of getting out of there quickly. He did not know how Portkeys worked, but he hoped with all his might that the thing worked to get him back to Hogwarts.

If it didn't … well, he would cross that bridge later.

Suddenly he felt something clamp down on his arm. Spinning around, he lashed out with his still extended knife. With a pig-like squeal, Wormtail let go of him, his real arm clutching his right eye where Harry had slashed him while the silver one had let go.

Just then, he spied saw a spell coming his way. Diving behind a tombstone, Harry drew his wand and snap-cast a blasting charm in the general direction that the curse had come from. Scrambling to his feet, he ran as fast as he could to the cup, his injuries momentarily forgotten.

Yelling told him that he had hit his target. But Harry did not look back. The last thing he heard before he was taken out of the place was another anger filled scream.

* * *

><p>The imposter looked at the cup with his fake eye as Potter touched the cup. As soon as the boy vanished, he let a sinister grin that, funnily enough, did not look terribly out of place on the face of his disguise.<p>

As soon as his Lord was done, he would send the body back with the cup, having made the necessary modifications on the corpse beforehand. Potter's death would be chalked up as another tragic loss to the Tournament. And while the world was mourning over Potter's death, his master would prepare for his takeover. He looked at his watch. The wards around Hogwarts were so strong that travel by Portkey would take longer than normal as the object would first transport the victorious champion to a place outside of the school and then, after a few minutes, in which the magic would recharge, transport the winner back outside the maze with a second touch. That gave them fifteen minutes to act before people started suspecting.

* * *

><p>Harry felt himself slam flat into the ground; his face was pressed into grass; the smell of it filled his nostrils. He had closed his eyes while the Portkey transported him, and he kept them closed now. He did not move. All the breath seemed to have been knocked out of him; his head was swimming so badly he felt as though the ground beneath him were swaying like the deck of a ship. To hold himself steady, he tightened his hold on the cold handle of the Tri-wizard Cup. He felt as though he would slide away into the blackness gathering at the edges of his brain if he let go of it. Shock and exhaustion kept him on the ground, breathing in the smell of the grass, waiting … waiting for someone to do something … something to happen. …<p>

A torrent of sound deafened and confused him; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams. … He remained where he was, his face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass. …

Then a pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over.

'Harry! _Harry_!'

He opened his eyes.

He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was crouched over him. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps.

He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

Harry let go of the cup, and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus.

'He's back,' Harry whispered. 'He's back. Voldemort.'

'What's going on? What's happened?'

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry, beaming.

'Congratulations on your win, Mr Potter!' the face said. 'And the youngest champion too!' The expression soon morphed into one of concern. 'You don't look too well, lad. Perhaps you should go to the hospital wing? In the meantime, I shall get your father.'

The crowd around him were all cheering, chanting his name. Nobody knew what had happened. Nobody knew that dark times were ahead. The thought made Harry's head swim.

Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set him on his feet. Harry swayed. His head was pounding. His injured ankle would no longer support his weight. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him congratulating him on his win, slapping his back and reaching to grasp his hand.

'He'll need to go to the hospital wing!' Fudge was saying loudly, obviously still there. 'He's ill, he's injured — Dumbledore, the other judges want to speak to you. …'

'I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him —'

'No, I would prefer —'

'Dumbledore, the judges are insisting on your presence to confirm the results. Also, Karkaroff has disappeared somewhere. And he couldn't have found a better time to do so. Something has messed with his champion. Krum is acting definitely off. I think you should have a look at him before accusations are made.'

'Harry, stay here —'

Girls were screaming, passionately chanting his name. … The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes. …

* * *

><p>Seeing the old man leave the boy alone, the imposter looked around. Black was still fighting his way through the mob. He was the only one close. He wouldn't get another opportunity.<p>

* * *

><p>Harry let Professor Moody lead him away, numbly answering his questions in disjointed sentences. Dimly, he registered a second pair of footsteps joining them.<p>

When he swallowed the Pepper-Up Potion and noticed his surroundings, he found himself not in the Hospital Wing but in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's office.

Suddenly something caught his eye. Turning, he saw what could only be Alastor Moody's body lying there, missing his false leg and (if the sunken look of his eyelid was any indication) eye.

Confused, Harry looked back to find the other Moody standing over him with his wand pointed at him, a manic grin on his face. On Moody's right was Mr Crouch, the judge also had a wand pointed at him.

'What is –?'

'I put your name in the Goblet, Potter,' said the Moody standing over him, an odd grin on his face. 'It was I who delivered you to my master. Imagine how handsomely he will reward me when I end your life as well. The one person he wanted to kill above all others…'

'You – you, what?' Harry looked at the visage of Moody. Quickly he looked at Crouch, hoping the man would help.

'He cannot help you, Potter!' the fake Moody said. 'I have him under the Imperius.'

'It was hard, you know,' the imposter said softly. 'Getting you to that cup … I wasn't sure that it could be done. But then, you and that Blood Traitor Black were more than willing to win the thing. So I left it. And you played right into the Dark Lord's trap! Now, I believe it's time to die.'

As the imposter raised his wand, three things happened at the same time.

The real retired Auror and current teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts, Alastor Moody, who had been taken by surprise in his office had long since woken. Staying still, he evaluated his surroundings, listening to what was being said.

His attacker had not found his wand. So Alastor slowly palmed it.

When he heard the man about to commit murder, he knew he had to act. He may not have his fancy fake eye, or a functional leg, but he was still Alastor Moody, dammit! And no filthy Death Eater was going to take him down.

With a speed that belied his age, he opened his eye and whipped his wand out to where he knew the threat was.

At the same time, perhaps it was the excitement of the moment that had led to the caster losing his concentration, or perhaps it was being in captivity for so long, but Bartemius Crouch felt the Imperius curse being lifted. Gaining awareness of his surroundings, he turned his wand to the enemy on his right. The man may have been his son, but he was a threat. Taking him out of Azkaban was a mistake. He should not have listened to his wife.

While all this was happening, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had finally reached Mad Eye Moody's office. The minute he had found out that Harry had been taken away by Moody, Dumbledore knew something was off.

They were followed by a worried and clearly agitated Sirius Black. He had overheard that idiot minister telling Dumbledore about Harry's whereabouts.

They had just reached the door to hear the last few sentences uttered within. Knowing that their window of opportunity was very small, Dumbledore acted.

Bartemius Crouch minor had barely uttered the first syllable of the Killing Curse when a bone breaking hex slammed into his wand arm from the side, sent there with deadly accuracy by Moody despite missing an eye. Simultaneously, a disarming charm crashed into his opposite side from his father at point blank range, sending him flying.

Bartemius Crouch major had only a moment to relish in the thought of throwing off the Imperius and disarming his son (possibly saving the Potter boy's life might get him some leeway from Black) when a spell crashed through the doorway. He landed in a heap right next to his son.

When Moody had raised his wand, Harry finally perceived that he was in danger. Acting reflexively, he had drawn his wand. That was when the flash of spell-fire had blinded him. Blinking the last of the spots away he took in his surroundings. To his left were the forms of Bartemius Crouch and the fake Moody while the real Moody was slowly sitting up. Ahead of him was the result of the spell he had thrown before the conflagration of spell-fire. He did not remember what it was, but it had left a nasty looking circle of melted stone in the wall. None of the spells he knew could do that. If it wasn't for the lightly smoking wand held in his hand, he wouldn't have believed it had come from him.

To his right, where the door was, were Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and –

'Dad!' Harry breathed in relief when he saw Sirius.

'Harry!' Sirius replied, rushing into the room and hugging his son. Stepping back he looked searchingly at his son. 'Are you alright?' he asked as his eyes raked over Harry's body, looking for any other injuries.

'I'm fine,' Just then, his ankle throbbed, making him grimace. The rest of his nerves took that opportunity to make themselves heard.

Concerned, Sirius sat the boy back down. 'Where does it hurt?' he asked anxiously.

'Just twisted my ankle,' Harry replied. 'I think it's sprained. Anyway, what happened?' he asked, looking around once more.

'That scum snuck up on me!' Moody growled from his position on the floor. He waved off Dumbledore. 'Just ensure that both of them are down.

Sirius turned around in astonishment. 'Surprised you?' he said incredulously. 'How did he manage that?'

'Well, you would be quite caught unawares too if you see a dead man appear, quite hale and hearty by the way, in your office, Black.' Moody replied testily.

'What do you mean?' Professor Dumbledore asked.

'Just wait till the Polyjuice Potion wears off,' Mad Eye said impatiently. 'You won't believe me anyway. Get some Veritaserum from Horace while you're at it. He has a whole vat of it down in the dungeons anyway. Foolish man,' he muttered under his breath. 'Brewing all those potions just to show off to a bunch of children and then leaving them for anyone to take them!'

Sirius sent off a Patronus towards Horace Slughorn.

Turning towards Harry, he said softly. 'Come on; let's get you to the Hospital Wing. You need rest.'

'Sirius, I must disagree.' Dumbledore said firmly. 'While bed rest would be a good idea, I think Harry needs to know who put him in this predicament in the first place. It will help in the long run.'

Sirius turned to argue with Dumbledore, but at the last moment, Harry caught his eye. 'Please,' he whispered. 'I want to know.'

Deflating, Sirius nodded his consent. 'Very well,' he said reluctantly.

Just then, the pretender's features began to change. Moody's fake leg and eye popped out as they were replaced with the imposter's real ones. Grizzled grey hair turned blond, and the numerous scars smoothened out, leaving a much younger face.

When the man's true identity was revealed, Sirius was suddenly very glad that he had stayed.

Bartemius Crouch minor was soon dosed with Veritaserum by a very surprised Slughorn who clearly recognised the man.

The following interrogation was very interesting. It turned out that Bartemius Crouch major had, at the insistence of his wife, smuggled his Death Eater son out of Azkaban and subsequently hidden him from view, keeping him under the Imperius and an invisibility cloak. The only person who had found out about this was one Bertha Jorkins. Crouch major had erased the woman's memory.

However, Wormtail, after he had escaped, had chanced upon the woman when he was out in search of Voldemort. Not giving her any opportunity to raise an alarm, he immediately subdued her and took her with him.

Voldemort had been able to find out a lot from Bertha Jorkins: Including the location of one of his most trusted followers. Sirius knew that the man had been one of those that had tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom, two celebrated Aurors into insanity.

And so, the dark lord had come for Crouch Minor, who by that time, had started to gain a resistance to the Imperius curse. It was quite chilling to know that Crouch Major had taken his son with him to the match regardless. The curse had worn off briefly during the match, and the Death Eater had used the moment of clarity to steal a wand from one of the wizards sitting in front of him on the stands. He had used that wand to send up the Dark Mark.

By the time Voldemort came along, Crouch was all alone in the house with his son. It was more than easy to overpower the older man.

The newly liberated Death Eater was quite eager to serve his master. Originally, the plan had been to impersonate Alastor Moody, who, Crouch Minor had heard, was to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.

But a survey of the former Auror's home had made that proposition too risky, causing a change in plans. Instead of Alastor, Crouch Minor impersonated his own father using Polyjuice potion, keeping the older man alternatively in an enchanted sleep or the Imperius.

That explained a lot to Sirius about Crouch's sudden desire to talk to him as well as his rather generous marking of his son.

On the day of the final task, Crouch Minor had revived his father, placed the man under the Imperius, and then ambushed Alastor Moody. With his father under the Imperius acting as the judge and himself as Moody, it was easier to set up the trap that lead Harry to Voldemort's clutches.

Even though Sirius kept a calm exterior façade, he was internally conflicted. On one hand, Harry had been kidnapped and forced to fend for his life. On the other hand, this was pure white Mithril! If Barty Crouch thought he had come out of a major ordeal with being held captive and placed under the Imperius, once he sees what Sirius has in store for him, he would consider that to be a walk in the park! After he was done with the man, the Crouch family would be utterly ruined. Sirius decided to focus on the good right now. Harry was safe, and he was going to bury Barty Crouch.

* * *

><p>Harry watched the whole thing in shock. The events of the night had been quite stressful for him. Not only was his ankle throbbing, but his entire body was aching due to the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. He could also feel the place where Wormtail had cut him. But that was nothing compared to the fact that he had come close to death twice.<p>

Professor Dumbledore wanted to take him to his office so he could ask Harry about what had happened that night. But Sirius put his foot down. Something Harry was grateful for. He did not feel like talking about the kidnapping.

However, Dumbledore was not to be easily swayed. And the next thing Harry knew, the two men were facing each other with him in the middle.

'If I may, gentlemen,' Professor McGonagall finally spoke up, interrupting the staring match between the two men. 'I believe a compromise can be worked out. How about this; Potter here goes to the Hospital Wing where Poppy takes care of any injuries that need immediate attention. Once Mr Potter is satisfactorily patched up for the moment, he can then tell you his story. Once that is done, we leave the boy in peace to rest and heal.'

With a great deal of reluctance, both Professor Dumbledore and Sirius agreed.

Harry limped to the Hospital Wing, supported by his father with Professor Dumbledore following. Mad Eye Moody had initially wanted to stay behind and guard the Death Eater, but after Professor McGonagall had the prisoner trussed up to the old Auror's satisfaction, he reattached his leg, inserted his magical eye into his eye socket and accompanied the three of them to the Hospital Wing. Slughorn, meanwhile, had gone to fetch the Minister.

Once he was safely in bed, his ankle healed and the cut on his arm sealed. Harry took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them.

Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand tight on Harry's shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Harry was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now he had started. It was even a relief; he felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from him. It was costing him every bit of determination he had to keep talking, yet he sensed that once he had finished, he would feel better.

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry started.

'He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's,' Harry told Dumbledore. 'He said the protection my — my mother left in me — he'd have it too. And he was right — he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face.'

For a fleeting instant, Harry thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second, Harry was sure he had imagined it, for when Dumbledore had returned to his seat at the foot of his bed, he looked old and weary.

'It seems that Tom has overcome that one obstacle.' Dumbledore said wearily. 'Please, continue.'

And so Harry spoke about how he had managed to escape thanks to Wormtail's incompetence while Voldemort was busy grandstanding.

'Do you remember what he had said?' Dumbledore asked, leaning forward and looking at Harry intently.

'No, not really,' Harry replied. 'I was too busy cutting those ropes.'

Perhaps it was Harry's tired imagination, but he thought he saw fleeting disappointment cross Dumbledore's aged face.

'Very well,' the headmaster said tiredly. 'Thank you for telling me this, Harry. You have shown immense courage well beyond your years today. I think it is about time you rest.'

As soon as he brought the privacy wards down, Madam Pomfrey, who had been hovering around in the background came forward briskly and handed Harry a goblet of sleeping potion. With Sirius' help, Harry had drunk said potion and the next thing he knew, he was slipping off into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>Once Harry was asleep, Sirius turned to Mad Eye Moody. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. The old Auror was slumped over in his chair.<p>

'Madam Pomfrey!' he shouted, getting the matron's attention.

The woman turned around. Seeing Sirius indicating to the slumped over figure, she hurried forward, waving her wand.

'Oh dear,' she said. 'Alastor is dead.'

'What? How?' Sirius said incredulously.

'Poison,' the matron said grimly. 'It was slow acting. The poison was administered about four hours ago. There was nothing that could be done for him. Alastor was a dead man walking ever since then.'

Sadness overcame Sirius at the death of his friend and steadfast ally.

Collecting himself, Sirius took a seat next to his sleeping son. A few minutes later, he was joined by the Molly Weasley, Ron, Hermione, Bill, Neville and Susan.

'Sirius,' Molly Weasley said. 'We just spoke to Dumbledore … how is he?'

'He's sleeping,' Sirius replied softly, staring at Harry. 'Physically, he's fine. Emotionally … I don't know.' He paused for a long moment. 'He was tortured by Voldemort. The Cruciatus was cast on him… .' He stopped, closing his eyes, unable to speak anymore. He could only imagine what his son must have gone through. Facing certain death at the hands of a madman… .

He nearly lost Harry. Again.

The thought caused bile to rise up his throat, burning away any and all optimistic thoughts he had.

Gently, he carded his hands through his son's hair as feelings of worry, terror and anger that he had buried ever since he had found out about the kidnapping attempt and subsequent attempt at murder surfaced.

Molly seemed to understand that he needed time to himself, because she stepped back. Whipping around, she admonished everyone present to be quiet, even though that action was unnecessary.

* * *

><p>Several minutes later of just sitting around silently, they were interrupted again by a commotion that was coming from out of the hospital wing.<p>

Sirius, who was half asleep, immediately raised his head, returning to full awareness as the Minister for Magic came inside followed by Professor McGonagall who, uncharacteristically for her, was visibly enraged.

In the heated debate that followed (Dumbledore had joined in) Sirius found out that Bartemius Crouch Minor had been Kissed by a dementor Fudge had brought along with him.

'By all accounts, he is no loss!' blustered Fudge. 'It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!'

'But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. 'He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people.'

'Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?' blustered Fudge. 'He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Horace have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!'

'Lord Voldemort _was_ giving him instructions, Cornelius,' Dumbledore said. 'Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body.'

Sitting back, Sirius watched silently and thoughtfully as Dumbledore tried to convince Fudge about the return of Lord Voldemort. Fudge was proving to be quite adamant that Voldemort was not back. He had apparently believed that the dark lord was dead.

Soon enough, Harry's name was dragged into the conversation.

'See here, Dumbledore, the boy obviously has been through a lot, what with Pettigrew and Crouch kidnapping him. Naturally he would think that You-Know-Who is back! They must have made him believe it! You cannot honestly believe a traumatised child.'

'If you wish to speak to, or about my son, Minister,' Sirius said smoothly, interrupting the conversation that was quite frankly, an argument. 'I suggest speaking to me first. After all, I _am _the boy's adoptive father and his legal guardian. Harry is still a minor, after all. Or did you forget the old laws?'

'L – Lord Black,' Fudge said with a smile plastered on his face sweat breaking out on his face as he was reminded that he nearly had insulted the heir of an ancient noble house in front of his father. 'I did not notice you sitting there.'

'I imagine not,' Sirius said dryly. 'The three of you were quite busy right there.'

'Minister, if we are to continue this conversation, might I ask that we do so some other time and somewhere else? After all, this is hardly the place to be having such a _spirited_ discussion.' Sirius said, fluidly getting to his feet before Fudge could even utter a syllable in response. 'This is, after all, a place of _healing_. It is hardly proper to expose the occupants of this room to such … passion.'

'I – yes, of course,' Fudge replied. Turning to Dumbledore, he said. 'We shall discuss this tomorrow morning. Until then, good day.'

Turning back to Sirius, the minister fixed a smile on his face as he said in much happier tones. 'Lord Black, the presentation ceremony shall be taking place tomorrow at eleven. I hope your son will be recovered by then.'

'He shall,' Sirius said with a smile. 'All he needs is a bit of rest and relaxation. Once the ceremony is done, and school is over, he will get plenty of that.'

'That is excellent, my lord.' Fudge replied. 'I hear France is a lovely place at this time of the year. Well, anyway, I shall be leaving now. Give my regards to Harry.'

'Sure thing, Minister,' Sirius said affably. 'Might I accompany you outside?'

Getting a nod of assent from Fudge, Sirius strode forwards and opening the door, ushered the Minister out. Closing the door, he followed the portly man.

* * *

><p><strong>Act III Scene V<strong>

* * *

><p>'I cannot believe that Dumbledore would suggest such a thing.' Fudge muttered as they left the Hospital Wing. Looking at Sirius, he continued. 'Surely, you agree with me! Crouch is clearly insane! All those years of being under the Imperius would have certainly driven him mad!'<p>

'I doubt he was sane to begin with,' Sirius said gravely. 'Remember, he was arrested and sent to prison for torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom because he and his cohorts believed that they knew where Voldemort was, despite the fact that his death was announced just days before.'

Fudge wore a thoughtful look. 'You have a point there,' he said. 'I cannot believe that Barty would _do _such a thing!'

'Indeed,' Sirius said neutrally.

'Imagine what the press is going to think of this! We will become a laughing stock in the wizarding world!' Fudge ranted in consternation. 'What will they think when they hear that a Death Eater was living free for all these years thanks to a person who was at one time the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? They are going to eat us alive!'

'Not necessarily.'

At Sirius words, Fudge looked at him in confusion. 'What do you mean?'

'You could say that your investigative team found out all about Crouch hiding his son. Call it a secret committee that you set up to root out all the corruption in your administration. It was inspired by the injustice that happened to me. You, being who you are, could not help but think that might be more cases like mine, so you had Bagnold, Crouch and Dumbledore secretly investigated. They found out all about Crouch's son just a few hours ago. Acting immediately, you sent a party of Aurors to search for, and apprehend, both father and son. At that moment, you got a call from me after I had managed to subdue and capture both Crouch men after I encountered them trying to kill my son. Since Crouch minor is an escaped convicted criminal, he was given the Kiss on site. The Aurors have now apprehended the very corrupt and hypocritical Bartemius Crouch on charges of attempted murder, corruption, harbouring a fugitive, putting a minor in danger, supporting a follower of the dark lord and kidnapping.'

'That's – that's genius, my lord!' Fudge said with a beaming smile.

'Thank you.'

'Now I only need to know what to do about Dumbledore insisting that You-Know-Who is back.'

Sirius paused for a moment. Here was the defining moment. What he said next depended on whether or not he had fully forgiven Dumbledore. 'Minister,' he finally said thoughtfully. 'Let's look at the facts. We know that Peter Pettigrew was at large. We also know now that Bartemius Crouch had secretly broken his son out of prison. We also know that they all collaborated to get my son. Finally, as you said, Crouch minor was under the impression that he was doing it under Voldemort's orders. So I don't see what the problem here is.'

'So,' Fudge said slowly. 'You are saying that Voldemort isn't back?'

'You did not hear me say any such thing, Minister.' Sirius said gravely. He sent the minister a significant look. 'All I said was to look at the evidence that is there for anyone to see.'

'Ah,' Fudge said, understanding. 'I understand, Lord Black!' He tapped the side of his nose with a finger. 'Of course, you cannot say.'

A shark-like grin spread across Sirius' face. 'Also, minister, consider this. After defeating Grindelwald, Dumbledore has been offered the position of Minister many times now. Yet, he has stuck to teaching in Hogwarts. Now, I don't know about you, but if I were him, I would go for that position. Especially if I were on the last few decades of my life…'

Fudge jerked back at this. 'You are right,' he said thoughtfully. 'I shall consider your words. Ah we have reached the front doors. Thank you for your time and advice, Lord Black. You have helped me see things in a new light!'

'It was my pleasure, Minister.'

Fudge laughed. 'Please, call me Cornelius.'

'Only if you call me Sirius,'

Turning away from the Minister, Sirius ruminated that he had not, in fact, forgiven Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>Sirius stayed the night in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had initially objected to this, but that was until Sirius had pointed out that Harry had already been kidnapped once, and he wasn't going to risk a repeat.<p>

The next morning, Harry woke up to see Sirius waiting for him, a change of clothes in hand.

* * *

><p>The presentation ceremony wasn't too grand. Harry received his prize money and the Triwizard Cup, a large structure made of crystal and shiny white metal with his name engraved on it. A facsimile would be later handed over to him to keep in his house while the original would sit in the Trophy Room for an unfortunate student to clean up for detention.<p>

That very night, Sirius was summoned to the Headmaster's office.

'Sirius,' the old man said neutrally.

Sirius smirked internally as he sat down. The absence of a twinkle in the old man's eye was the sweetest thing he had ever seen.

'Dumbledore,' he replied with the same amount of neutrality. 'How did your meeting with the Minister go?'

'It went badly, as you know,' Dumbledore replied in a low tone. 'The Minister was quite insistent that Voldemort was not back. He also seemed to be of the funny notion that I was after his position. I know you spoke to him. What did you say to him?'

'Nothing much,' Sirius replied carelessly. 'I just gave him what probably will be the same advice given to him by his press secretary, and that was how to make himself look good and weather through the Crouch incident.'

'Did you not try to make him see reason? I would have at least thought that you would have tried to convince him that Voldemort was back and a real threat.' Dumbledore said with a hint of steel.

'No,' Sirius replied glibly and left it at that.

It was at this point that Dumbledore lost his cool.

Slamming his palms down on his desk, he asked with uncharacteristic anger, 'What will it take, Sirius? What do you want? What will it take for you to stop this madness?' he could not believe Sirius. That he would actually stoop so low as to risk the wizarding world just to get back at him was something that Albus did not expect of Sirius.

Even though the portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses flinched at Dumbledore's sudden burst of anger, Sirius did not even react.

Letting a slow smile spread across his face, Sirius spoke up. 'I was wondering what it would take to get that kind of reaction from you. I must say, it is quite satisfying to rile you up, Dumbledore. Not many people can do that, I am told.'

The smile slipped off his face. 'As for what I want … how about twelve years of my life back? Can you give me that? No? Well then, how about the money you took from me? You know what, I don't want that either. What I really want is my sex drive back.' His face took on an ugly look. 'I went through my old collection of porn the day I was exonerated officially. You know, to have a celebratory wank? After all it was a really long time. Imagine my surprise when none of those pictures got even the slightest reaction from me. So I bought new material. Nothing, not even the most perverted magazine or picture got a reaction from me. It was when I was sitting in the Quidditch World Cup when the Bulgarian mascots came out that I realised that it could be a problem. There was a whole troop of veela dancing there. It affected every single male in the stadium. From the thirteen year olds (and I even saw a few ten year olds affected) all the way to the ninety year olds. All of them: Except me! They did not elicit even a twinge of a reaction in me.

'It took me a lot of time to work up the courage to get to a healer. And when I finally spoke to the healer, what did I find?' Sirius paused. 'I found out that I was basically impotent. The prolonged exposure to the dementors had sapped me of my virility. And I wouldn't have minded that if it wasn't for the fact that I also found out, much, much later, that every single Death Eater inmate of Azkaban is dosed with a permanent infertility potion. Merlin knows why they would do something like that, but apparently that was something that came out of Barty Crouch's twisted mind. What was more, you agreed to it.

'Not that you saw fit to inform the prisoners in question.' Sirius laughed mirthlessly. 'So imagine that. I find out that you lot not only screwed me of a dozen years of my life, but basically ruined my future as well. I can never have children. Ever. This was, by the way, after I adopted Harry, so you can imagine the amount of guilt I felt on top of the guilt at what I thought was me trying to steal my best friend's son. I know that it is illogical now, but it took me quite some time to realise that.

'So in a nutshell, you screwed me over, Dumbledore. You screwed over the one person who believed in you, the person who actually turned his back on his own family because of you. You used me and when you had no more use for me, you just threw me away like a piece of rubbish. And you think that I am going to do anything to help you now? You think that I am going to lift a fucking finger for you?' Sirius laughed maniacally. 'How does it feel to be screwed over by a person who you desperately wanted help from? Oh, how right they are when they say "revenge is a dish best served cold".'

'I could very well get Fudge to believe that Voldemort was back,' he sneered. 'I have the connexions, I know people. I know things about people who I am not familiar with. The influence of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is still there. The name still carries weight. But I won't use it for you, nor will I use it for your fucking Greater Good.

'Of course, I am a reasonable man. So tell you what, I will go right now and convince Fudge that Voldemort is back. Hell, I'll even use the Imperius if it comes to it. In exchange you give me back the virility and fertility that you stole from me. I think it's a great deal. I give you world peace in return for the chance to screw a bird and have kids.' Sirius smiled sardonically. 'No? I thought so…'

He stood up. 'I would say, "Fuck you" but unfortunately, I don't have that capability. Goodbye, Dumbledore. I will not be joining the Order, nor will I offer my well warded and furnished home as headquarters.' With that, he swept towards the door.

'Oh, and one other thing.' He turned towards Dumbledore again. 'Don't even try and involve Harry in this. Trust me, I will know and when I find out … well, let's say that things will get even more difficult for you. And we wouldn't want that, would we? What will Magical Britain do then?'

With that parting shot, Sirius made to exit the office.

'If you leave now,' Dumbledore said slowly, speaking up for the first time since Sirius' monologue. 'And continue to follow the path you have chosen for yourself, then I will tell you what I told Cornelius. We have reached a parting of the ways. Hence I cannot guarantee that I will be there to protect you or your son should Voldemort decide to pay you a visit.'

Sirius only laughed. 'Oh, so you would help us if I agree to work with you, would you? Like that time you helped me because I worked with you? Yeah right. Go fuck yourself, old man. You have proven to me that Harry and I are on our own and to trust you would be foolishness.' Stepping past the threshold, Sirius slammed the door behind him with as much force as he could muster.

Looking at the closed door, Dumbledore bowed his head. His folly with Sirius was proving to be a mistake greater than what he had done to Ariana. How he wished he could take back his actions. Now the whole world will end up paying for his mistake and for Sirius' inability to let go of his anger and bitterness.

* * *

><p>Two days later, after Harry had gone off to school, Sirius opened the door to see Remus Lupin standing outside. Stepping outside, he closed the door behind him.<p>

'Lupin,' Sirius said neutrally. 'Finally decided to show your face around here, I see.'

'No thanks to you,' the werewolf growled. He looked at Sirius murderously. 'How could you?' he accused. 'I thought I was your friend. How could you have me infect another person? I also thought that you were against Voldemort. How could you deny his return when you know the truth?'

'How could I?' Sirius repeated incredulously. 'I wasn't the one who forgot to drink his potion that night. Nor was I the one who decided to volunteer to accompany Peter and everyone else out in the open in a _full moon night_! You know, if I didn't know better, I would assume that you were actually trying to help Peter out there. Perhaps hoping that by transforming, you would give him enough of time to change into a rat and escape.'

Remus was shocked. 'You know that isn't true!' he exclaimed. 'I thought I made it clear to you. I am _not _Voldemort's spy!'

'Really?' Sirius drawled sceptically. 'Let's look at the facts, shall we?' he held out a finger. 'One, you, knowing full well that you were a werewolf, went down to other humans on a _full moon night_ after knowing who you would be meeting thanks to the Marauder's map. Two, you had the map, for half a year, yet you conveniently picked that night to "find" Peter Pettigrew. Three, knowing your condition fully, you still volunteered to escort Pettigrew. So yeah, I would say that it looks rather suspicious.'

Remus was speechless. 'I thought that you had killed Peter. So I wasn't exactly looking for his name, seeing as I was busy searching for yours!' he finally said heatedly. 'As for me being there at that night, well, the discovery of a long dead man and you together with Harry and two other students made me dash off. In the excitement, I had honestly forgotten about the full moon night! It happens to the best of us, Sirius!'

'Ah,' Sirius said placidly. 'That makes sense I guess. There is one small problem, however. See, you kind of testified against me back then. You told Dumbledore that I was the spy, that I was the one who was the Secret Keeper and that I was the one who had betrayed the Potters. Now, considering that Lily had left you a note in the last care package that I had delivered to your house telling you the truth, one has to wonder why you would do such a thing. After all, that could be considered perjury, you know. You are lucky that wasn't an official trial. Otherwise I would have hauled your arse in court for that. Pity, that. At any rate, you too "denied the truth" as you so eloquently put it. It's only fair that I do the same…'

Remus looked at Sirius in confusion before his face cleared up. 'Oh that package.' His features then morphed to one of horror and regret. 'I am sorry, Sirius.' He said with genuine remorse. Hanging his head, he remembered that night. 'I had only seen that package the morning after James and Lily died. When I saw that package, I remembered what Dumbledore had said. And, in my rage, I destroyed that basket. I did not even look inside.' He brought a shaking hand up to his face. 'Oh Merlin, I am so, so, so sorry, Sirius.'

If only he had gone through the contents of that basket … Remus remembered feeling regret at destroying it at that moment, but that had been because he had smelt the food coming out.

'I see,' Sirius was unmoved. 'So,' he said slowly. 'What was the reason that Harry did not even know of your existence till his third year? And how was it that he only found out that you were James' friend much later in that year?'

Remus' head dipped even lower. 'Dumbledore had told me that it wasn't a good idea to speak to Harry till he entered the magical world. By that time, I had left Britain, coming back only when Harry was in third year. Seeing him, I realised that I had completely ignored him. In my guilt, I realised I had to take it slow. After all, how do you go up to a student and say "hey, I am your dad's friend. He and I used to cause a lot of mischief when we were in school."'

'How very touching,' Sirius made no effort to hide the sarcasm in his voice. 'So, "Dumbledore said," huh? I guess I was right. You _are_ a spy. I think of the four of us, only James and I were ever loyal to our friends. You and that rat were the spies. Wormtail was Voldemort's spy, while you were Dumbledore's.' Sirius sneered. 'Dumbledore's man, through and through, aren't you, Remus?'

Remus looked back at Sirius. 'It's not like that,' he said softly. 'Dumbledore has done a lot for me. He gave me an education despite my affliction!'

'And we stayed as your friends despite knowing about what you were!' Sirius snapped in response. 'James and I were not obligated to socialise with you. Yet we made the choice to befriend you. James and I both decided that it did not matter. We even went that extra mile and learned of a way to accompany you on those nights. The very least you could have done, in honour of that friendship, was to at least contact the man's son! Through writing if need be! But no, you didn't. Why? Because _Dumbledore said so_! Did you bother even looking through what I had put together for you and risked life and limb to get to your place? Again, no, you didn't. Why? Because _Dumbledore said so_!' he finished mockingly.

'Well, you made your choice, I guess. You decided that Dumbledore was the more important person compared to us, your friends. You know, out of the three of us, only James and I thought to remain your friends without any other person telling us? We had to convince Peter to still trust you! And you just throw that in our face!'

Sirius stepped away from Remus. 'You made your bed,' he said coldly. 'Now you can lay in it. Go bugger that old man. I know you want to anyway. I wouldn't be surprised if you spent most of the time in school secretly giving him blow jobs too. Don't talk to me again. And forget contacting Harry. I have spent the last year telling him everything. Let's just say that he hates you more than I do at this moment.'

Remus never thought he would have ever seen so much hatred in those grey eyes directed at him. Then again, he did deserve it.

'I'm sorr –'

'Save it!' Sirius said harshly. Regaining his composure, he continued in a normal voice. 'Your apologies mean nothing to me, Lupin. Now I suggest you get out of my property or I shall alert the authorities. According to the new laws, they won't exactly be gentle in throwing you out.'

'What new laws,' Remus couldn't help but ask.

'Oh,' Sirius slapped a hand to his forehead. 'The laws I, and this woman Dolores Umbridge, have you heard of her? Judging by your face, you have. Anyway, Umbridge and I will be introducing a few new laws to keep the populace safe from werewolves. After all, now that Snape is one of them, who knows what will happen? Anyway, you have half a minute to get your mangy, flea bitten arse out of my front lawn, _werewolf_. Because that is the amount of time it's going to take me to alert someone from the De Em El Ee. I hope you enjoyed the money Dumbledore stole from me and gave you, because you won't be enjoying that for long.' Saying that, Sirius spun on his heel and Apparated out, leaving a broken man behind.

* * *

><p><strong>Act III Scene VI<strong>

* * *

><p>Absently stroking the large snake draped over his shoulders, Lord Voldemort looked at the large manor, a sick smile on his face.<p>

While he had finally managed to get his body back after nearly two decades of living as a wraith, he had suffered what he considered to be a major setback.

The boy, Harry Potter, had managed to escape from right under his nose. And it was all thanks to Wormtail's incompetence. Voldemort hoped that the man truly felt the loss of his eye. It serves him right to have the boy blind him.

At first, he had been angry at his plans of taking over the wizarding world being scuppered. The boy would no doubt go running to Dumbledore who would then take steps to thwart him.

But then good fortune smiled over him again. While his faithful servant Crouch, may his soul rest in peace, had been captured, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge had refused to believe Dumbledore.

Capitalising on this, he had Lucius use his silver tongue on the incompetent Minister.

While it was nearly a month since Voldemort had heard the report from his slippery friend, he still couldn't help but chuckle. Lucius _actually_ had Fudge believing that Dumbledore was out for his job and was additionally using Hogwarts as his training grounds for his own private army.

It truly proved that Fudge was an idiot. Had the man actually sat down to think, he would have realised that a good ninety per cent of the Auror force had gone to Hogwarts when the old man was headmaster while the remaining ten per cent had been taught transfiguration by him.

If Dumbledore wanted to be Minister, all he would have to do is just say the words, and his wish would be made reality.

But all that was nothing compared to the other stroke of good fortune.

Sirius Black, the last remaining member of the illustrious family, also did not believe that he had returned. According to Lucius, his anger and bitterness towards Dumbledore had made sure of that. On top of that, he was now the guardian of the boy.

So that meant that Harry Potter was now within easy reach. Black had also quite conveniently let it slip to Lucius that he was going to be holidaying in France in a location that Narcissa remembered. Apparently he wanted to "reconnect" with the boy and ease their strained relationship caused by the subject of his return.

And that lead him to his current location. Harry Potter, the one prophesised to bring about his downfall and the one person he wanted dead above all others was in that house, far, far away from Dumbledore's protection.

Perhaps he would offer them a place within his ranks? He knew that Black hated Dumbledore right now. That hate could be useful for his cause. As for the boy … well, during his time as a wraith, he had done a lot of thinking and realised that the whole prophecy thing was malarkey. He was Lord Voldemort, the defeater of Death. No silly bint with a mystic voice was going to tell him what his fate was going to be!

Besides, there was no way the boy would ever be able to find out about his Horcruxes.

So offering the boy a place wasn't a bad idea either.

Waving his wand (he might as well call it his, Bertha Jorkins wasn't around to use it anyway), Voldemort analysed the wards around the house. Typically they weren't much of a challenge for him. Black, in his complacency, had not upgraded his wards. Oh well.

A few waves, flicks and muttered words later, Voldemort was walking up the impressive driveway and towards the front door.

A further flick of his wand blew the doors open. Striding inside (after letting Nagini slip in, unnoticed) Voldemort immediately spied Sirius Black. His quarry was unarmed! This was almost too easy. The man was truly as big a fool as James Potter.

'Hello, Black,' Voldemort said pleasantly, a cold smile on his face. 'Pleasure to meet you,' he made a show of looking around. 'And where is young Harry? I so badly want to meet him.'

'Riddle,' the other man replied steadily. Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the hated name. 'You are not welcome here. I suggest you leave before things go badly for you.'

Voldemort laughed in a high cold voice. 'Unless you have an army hidden somewhere in this house, Black, I very much doubt that you would stand a chance against me.'

While he had Black distracted, Voldemort could see Nagini slithering up behind the other man. 'I would suggest giving up now, Black. I only want to talk. Do not try to resist me, for it will end in your demise.'

'I do not want to hear anything you have to say, _Tom_!'

'So be it,' Voldemort snarled, raising his wand.

Inexplicably, Black gave off a feral grin.

Behind him, Nagini struck…

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy stood in the dining room of his manor. His master had gone off to France to take care of his blood-traitor cousin by marriage and that Potter brat.<p>

He could not wait for that moment. Once Black and the boy were gone, he would have unfettered access to the Black family secrets. Then magical Britain would be his. Well, it would be his lord's, but Lucius would hold all the strings. He would be the enforcer of the Dark Lord here, while his master went abroad to annex more countries.

Suddenly, he felt a spot on his left arm burn. The master had finished his work! He would be here soon.

In the next few minutes, the room was filled with the other Death Eaters. Seeing them assemble provoked deep nostalgia from Lucius. It was just like in the old days, when he was young and hot-blooded.

The faces around him were lined and wrinkled now, some having gained weight. But that did not detract from the moment. This would be the first step to greatness.

At long last, the doors opened and the Dark Lord swept inside.

Lucius and the other Death Eaters knelt. 'My Lord,' they all said with reverence.

'I trust that your mission went well, my lord?' Lucius finally spoke up after they were bidden to rise.

'Well, if you are talking about me, Lucy, then, yeah! It went quite well.' A different voice spoke up.

Immediately, all the Death Eaters turned towards the door to see Sirius Black standing there with a full blown smirk on his thin face.

Two jets of light flew off the wands of two of the more alert Death Eaters.

However, before they could even get near Sirius, they were met by a shield.

It took the collective a moment to realise that the shield had been put up by their master.

'Whoops,' Sirius said with a smirk. 'You might not want to do that. Tommy here might not like it. In fact, he might just react with violence the next time one of you clowns tries that.'

He glided towards the head of the table, sitting at the spot Voldemort was to have occupied. The Death Eaters could only watch in shock.

'Wh – how,' sputtered Lucius.

'Well, sit down,' Sirius said with a condescending smirk. 'Make yourselves comfortable. I have quite a story to tell you lot.'

Lucius' eye twitched as Sirius casually put his feet up on the polished mahogany, making the chair lean back on two legs.

'Now, now, don't keep me waiting.' Sirius said. 'Tommy here might just get angry otherwise.'

Unnerved by the unnaturally silent Dark Lord, the Death Eaters all sat down.

'Now that wasn't so hard now, was it?' Removing his legs from the surface of the table and letting his chair fall down on all four legs, Sirius started his tale.

'Now how to begin … Oh I know! Once upon a time, a long time ago … well not so long ago, more like seventy to eighty years ago there was a woman. She was born to a pureblood family, but tragically, she was a squib.'

'Her family, while pureblood and old were what you would call "broke" or "poor". They were also quite insane. This poor squib girl, her name was Merope Gaunt, by the way, was quite oppressed by her nutty father and homicidal brother. The only reason they kept her around was because she could marry her brother Morfin and have little inbred, cockeyed, ugly kids.

'Yeah I know,' Sirius said upon noticing the expression on one of the Death Eater's face. 'That is quite disgusting. Then again, I doubt there is anyone here who doesn't know that the Gaunts were a bunch of loons. Anyway, one day, she fell in love with a boy. This boy was everything her brother was not (including not being her brother). The problem was he was a Muggle and so, completely oblivious to magic and well unsuitable in her father's and brother's eyes.

'Now, Merope kept her love a secret, knowing full well that the handsome Muggle would never be with her. But one day, she became lucky. Morfin, and her father, Marvolo were arrested and imprisoned by the Ministry. Now that she was free, she could pursue her love.

'Of course there is another problem, and that was the fact that the Muggle was handsome and rich while she was ugly and poor. But that wasn't much of a problem as even squibs can brew potions.

'To cut a long story short, she made a love potion, ensnared him and had his kid. The problem was that the Muggle finally broke free from her enchantment because of which she was left alone, pregnant and destitute. Well, she died at childbirth.

'The boy she gave birth to was a handsome and powerful wizard. He attended Hogwarts, he got phenomenal marks, was prefect and Head Boy. But he was also just as homicidal and nuts as his dear uncle and grandfather. He was also quite bitter and had a major hatred for the Muggles as they had tormented him quite a bit when he was younger.

'So what do people like that do? Well, he turned to the Dark Arts and became seriously evil.

'But that wasn't the end of it, was it Tommy?' Sirius smiled at the silent figure standing next to him. 'No, see, this, well, he's practically a Muggleborn, so this _Mudblood_ decided that being the average dark lord was quite pedestrian. So he decided to go the extra mile. And so, after years of study, he made a Horcrux. And, brilliant chap that he is, he managed to make one by the end of his seventh year.'

The Death Eaters all sucked in shocked breaths. Horcruxes were a taboo subject. Only those who had intensively studied the Dark Arts or were Dark themselves knew of their existence.

The Dark Families all had tried their level best to suppress the knowledge of these terrible devices, for there were things that should not be done, and lines that should not be crossed. And the splitting of a soul was one of those things.

The Dark and Light sides may disagree on many things, but the one thing they held in common was that the soul was sacrosanct. Splitting it was considered to be the ultimate evil.

It was this reason why many Dark Arts books did not have information of such devices.

Sirius looked at the collective. 'Now, this wizard wasn't fully satisfied with one Horcrux. No, he made _many_.' More gasps followed this revelation. 'He made a grand total of seven Horcruxes. At the same time, he had started gathering followers. He would then give some of his followers, the most trusted ones, these Horcruxes for safe keeping.'

Sirius paused for effect and then continued. 'Of course, by now we all know that this man happens to be standing next to me. Now Tommy here, made a major mistake. He left a Horcrux in the family home of the Blacks.'

Coldly looking at the form next to him 'Now what this _Mudblood_ failed to understand is that the Blacks are one of the foremost families in all of Britain. We have been around much before the Founders of Hogwarts. In fact we were the first magical settlers there! And we have more collective knowledge than this pretentious prick.'

'The minute I found out what was in my house, well …' Sirius smiled as he thought back to the past year.

* * *

><p>When he had first found out what it was, Sirius had then gone to the secret library only accessible by the Head of the House. In it there were books that dealt with the darkest of dark magic.<p>

Unlike the other families that were more than happy to ignore the more gory aspects of Dark magic, the Blacks had actually experimented and studied those subjects. The chief focus of their studies was Horcruxes.

Now, just like the rest of the saner Dark wizards, they knew the costs involved with splitting one's soul. They had no intention of creating one. But they were paranoid enough to think that someone else might. So they thought up ways to use Horcruxes to their advantage.

Sirius had used the knowledge within the books to possess the bit of Voldemort's soul within. Once he owned that fragment of soul, he had extracted knowledge of the other fragments, hoping to find the bit that was roaming around and possessing Defence teachers and being served by certain rats.

Instead, he hit upon the revelation that there were more Horcruxes. One of which was destroyed.

So Sirius had sought them all out. He knew their locations, thanks to the soul fragment from the locket (which he found out much later was the biggest bit as it contained another fragment that was in Harry's scar before the boy had touched it) so the job was easy.

Taking the soul fragment by fragment was easier and carried with it a lesser price than it would have with one singular whole soul, as Polaris Black the first had mentioned in his book.

As a majority of Voldemort's soul was still tethered to the living realm, Sirius only had to sacrifice a small mammal to recall the soul fragment that had been released from its container. According to Virgo Black the fourth, a necromancer, this was significantly lower than the cost of a human sacrifice that was required to bring a full soul to the living realm.

Once he had six-eighths of Voldemort's soul, Sirius could see flashes of the Dark Lord's thoughts. Of course, he had to be close to the wizard to be able to do so.

Sirius ended the edited version of the past few months, watching the shocked expressions of the Death Eaters.

'Of course,' he continued. 'I had needed the man himself if I were to possess him fully. This is where you come in, Lucy!' He added cheekily, causing the blond man (who till then, had been caught up in the fact that he _actually_ had a _Horcrux_ in his house) to start.

'See, I knew you wouldn't hesitate to give up my location to Voldemort here. So you lead the wanker straight to me where I was happily waiting for him with everything prepared.'

Of course, Sirius ruminated. Fudge and the public not knowing about Voldemort's return was also part of the plan. That would make sure that no awkward questions were asked. It was a tricky thing though, as Dumbledore could very well prove to be more persuasive.

Convincing Harry was also tricky. The boy had been quite upset to find out that Sirius had aided in the Minister's belief that Voldemort had not returned. However, Sirius had won the boy over when he mentioned that Voldemort would not bother him ever again after the plan was executed. The prospect of having the man at his beck and call also helped matters.

'As soon as I saw that snake, I knew that it was another Horcrux.' Sirius continued speaking. 'So with the final bits of Voldemort's soul now in place, I could fully bind him.'

He removed an old fashioned oil lamp from a pocket in his robes. 'I think you have heard of genies? They are a result of a fusion of an Old Persian ritual and an old South American Voodoo ritual that bound a man, heart, body, mind and soul to another person, or in this case his bloodline. So Tommy here is fully _mine_! And he cannot even attempt to fight back! After all, he has no free thought.'

'Well, he is actually mine and Harry's and also any descendant of Harry's' Sirius amended, a shark-like grin spread across his face. 'Which means that, you lot, as Voldemort's servants, now belong to me!'

'Now as your new master, I have my first order.' Sirius said in a business-like tone. 'Swear the loyalty of your entire line to my line. Swear fealty to the Potter-Black clan.'

'Why should we?' A voice jeered. 'What will you do if we refuse? Personally I think you are just bluffing, Black!'

Lazily looking at the man, Sirius just said in a sing-song voice, 'Ooooh, Tommy.'

Voldemort vanished in a puff of smoke.

A minute passed by before the defiant Death Eater doubled up in pain as he felt the magical connexions to his family being severed.

As Voldemort reappeared, Sirius said pleasantly. 'As of five minutes ago, the Selwyn family is no more. All the members have been eradicated in a _tragic _fire.' Looking at the Death Eater still doubled over in pain, Sirius continued. 'Congratulations, Robert. You are the last of your line.'

Enraged, Robert Selwyn whipped out his wand. 'AVADA KEDAVRA' he shouted.

The jet of green light came out of the handle of his wand, hitting Robert in the stomach and killing him immediately.

'And now there are no more Selwyns.' Sirius said sardonically. 'I think you all know what happens to a Death Eater if he raises his wand against his master. Check your forearms.'

Cries of shock were heard when they all found the modified family crest of the Potter-Black clan on their forearms instead of the skull and snake of the Dark Mark.

'I have your loyalties, however forcefully taken.' Sirius said silkily. 'But I want the loyalty of your entire lines to mine. So come here and swear. Or else have your family eradicated by my very immortal, very deadly, and very skilled servant. I will point out now that the Blacks are related to all of you twits either by marriage or by blood. So whatever you decide, I will win. You only have a choice. Live now and enjoy your wealth with your lines continuing, or become extinct like old Selwyn here.'

'Oh, and Lucy, I would be the first to swear loyalty if I were you. As it is, currently I am rather ticked off by you freely putting my son in danger. I mean, where's the family loyalty, huh?' Sirius gave the blond a mocking look of hurt. 'Also, don't forget. Draco and Narcissa are in the house too. So it won't be that much of a stretch for Tommy here to kill them.'

Led by a trembling Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eaters stood up, one by one and came forward to carry out Sirius' instructions.

'Good,' Said Sirius once the last of the Death Eaters was done. 'Now, where is Wormtail?' flicking his head towards Voldemort, he said dismissively. 'Get that rat here.'

In a few moments, Sirius was staring at the trembling form of his former friend with a nasty smile on his face.

'Hello, Peter,' he said ominously. 'You must be wondering why it is that I am sitting here in such … company … well, the details are sketchy, but the gist is that I now control Voldemort here. Meaning I control _you._' He grinned maliciously, showing off all his newly replaced white teeth. 'I am so going to make you _wish_ that you had never escaped Azkaban a second time.' Looking around him, he addressed the other Death Eaters. 'Now, I know you aren't happy that I took control and all, so here's something that I hope will make up for it. I give you the man who made all of this' he swept his hand around him to refer to the current situation, 'possible. Do with him what you want. Just keep him alive. At least for … say, twelve years. After that, feel free to exterminate him.'

Standing up, Sirius left the room. As the door closed behind him, he smiled as he heard the first salvo of screams coming from Pettigrew. Turning on his heel, he headed home to tell Harry about his success. The boy would be relieved to know that Voldemort no longer posed a threat.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

* * *

><p>The public never knew of the major shift in power, instead believing Fudge's anti-Dumbledore propaganda.<p>

Aided by Sirius, a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was placed in Hogwarts. Fudge had initially wanted Dolores Umbridge to teach, but Sirius had nixed the idea, stating that Hogwarts should not lower her standards for any reason. So, a retired curse breaker was appointed instead.

Since there was no threat to his son, Sirius allowed an ecstatic Harry to go to Hogwarts for his fifth year as Gryffindor prefect. They continued using the Hogsmeade residence, Harry was comfortable with coming home from school, and Sirius was only too happy to see his son at the end of the day.

The nineteen ninety-six batch of first years never got to see Dumbledore welcome them as headmaster. By the middle of August, the board of governors had booted him from the position. A tip from Sirius had Aurors going after the venerable old man on suspicions of harbouring the dangerous werewolves Remus Lupin and Severus Snape.

The former headmaster had swiftly gone into hiding. He had spent a long time searching for a person that was no longer there before he finally found out the truth.

But by then it was too late. Now that he was a wanted man for a little over a year, Dumbledore's influence was fully broken. He sought asylum in Germany, where he shortly died in isolation.

Harry had finished his schooling with top marks in his O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Sirius had to admit that it wasn't exactly easy raising Harry. The boy had quite a few insecurities left over from his horrendous childhood at the Dursleys (Sirius had taken his time harassing the Muggle family before finally putting them out of their misery). At times he would regress, acting much younger than his years, and at times he would push the boundaries and be moody but Sirius was patient and made sure to be there for him and more importantly, consistent.

By the time Harry had left school as head boy and prefect, the youngest seeker in a century and the youngest registered Animagus, he was no longer the boy he had been when he had first entered Hogwarts. Now confident, well-adjusted, and magically strong, he set out to conquer the world. After the customary tour around the world, he obtained a doctorate in Defence Against the Dark Arts. His paper, dealing with research on the effects of brother wands was critically acclaimed. Once out of university, he took over the family's finances, occasionally playing Quidditch in the local leagues.

He reconnected with Padma Patil who was in the same university, studying for a degree in Potions. The pretty girl had blossomed into a fine looking woman. She had not forgotten the way he had "rescued" her from an evening of boredom at the Yule Ball by setting her up with another date. Fred Weasley might have been a handful, but he knew how to keep her entertained. Thanks to that, she thought of him in quite favourable terms even though they had barely spoken since in school.

The two of them had married three years after graduating.

In the meantime, Sirius had become quite a force in the political world. With the dark families now fully in his fist, he presented himself as a huge power bloc. Thanks to his progressive thinking, and measures to end the huge social gap between Muggleborns and the rest, Sirius had made serious inroads with the light families as well, thereby increasing his power.

Handing over the Wizengamot seat to his now forty year old son (who was almost instantaneously elevated to Chief Warlock thanks to his celebrity status and family power) Sirius had run for Minister, winning the office in a landslide victory.

As Minister, with Harry heading the Wizengamot, the two of them had become even more famous for eradicating the werewolf threat in the country after peace talks had failed. Of particular note were the captures and executions of Fenrir Greyback, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. Of the three lycans, the latter two werewolves' notoriety may or may not have been greatly exaggerated after Sirius had heard rumours that the two of them were actually a couple.

By the time a ninety year old Sirius had retired as Minister, Britain was the first western country to be declared a werewolf free zone.

And now, at a hundred and thirty four, Sirius finally was at peace.

He was, for all intents and purposes, the last of the Blacks. The family had been merged with another ancient family to give Clan Potter-Black. He was also, at the same time, the first of this new clan with Harry (the last of the Potters) being the first scion. Although technically, Harry was the first since Sirius had never taken up the name "Potter-Black"

House Potter-Black had gone above and beyond House Black or House Potter. Thanks to him and Harry, the wizarding world of Britain was fully united with the people looking to them to resolve any conflicts. Thanks to a judicious use of their servant, the also country experienced a century of peace. And they would experience many more years.

The populace had started to consider them royalty by now. Their many contributions had ensured an almost fanatic level of adoration from the public, helped by reports of their stance of neutrality in politics. Sirius knew that word was out on the streets that one could always count on The Clan (as they were known to the public) to keep things stable. It would only be a matter of time before their royal status became official. Tears of happiness welled in Sirius' eyes as he thought of a nameless descendant of his being crowned magical king.

Sirius didn't know if that would happen, though. But the future, whatever it may be, was bright for Clan Potter-Black.


End file.
